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Doctor  Ox's 
Experiment 


[--\ 


VERNE 


H.  M.  CALDWELL  CO.,  PUBLISHERS 
NEW  YORK  AND  BOSTON      ^     ^ 


Copyright 

Lee  and  Shepard 

1876 


Dr.  Ox's  Experiment 


TABLE    OF    CONTENTS. 


Doctor  Ox's  Experiment. 

Paqb 
I.   How  it  is  useless  to  seek,  even  ou  the  best  maps, 

for  the  small  town  of  Quiquendone   ...         1 
IL    In  which  the  burgomaster  Van  Tricasse  aud  the 
counsellor  Niklausse  consult  about  the  aflaii-s 
of  the  town       .......        4 

III.   In  wliich  the  commissary  Passauf  enters  as  noisily 

as  unexpectedly         ......       10 

rV.    In  which  Doctor  Ox  reveals  himself  as  a  physiolo- 
gist of  the  first  rank,  and  as  an  audacious  ex- 
perimenter        .......      17 

V.    In  which  the  Burgomaster  and  the  Coiinsellor  pay 

a  visit  to  Doctor  Ox,  and  what  follows      .         .       23 
VI.    In  which  Frantz  Nilclausse  and  Suze!  Van  Tricasse 

form  certain  projects  for  the  future  ...       31 
VII.    In  which  the  andantes  become  allegros,  and  the 

allegros  \dvaces 36 

VIII.    In  which  the  ancient  and  solemn  German  waltz 

becomes  a  whirlwind  .         .         .         .         .48 

IX.    In  which  Doctor  Ox  and  Ygene,  his  assistant,  say 

a  few  words 56 

X.    In  which  it  will  be  seen  that  the  epidemic  invades 

the  entire  to\vn,  and  what  effect  it  produces     .       57 
XI.    In  which  the  Quiquendonians  adopt  a  heroic  reso- 
lution          63 

XII .  In  which  Ygene,  the  assistant,  gives  a  reasonable 
piece  of  advice,  which  is  eagerly  rejected  by 
Doctor  Ox 70 

XIII.  In  which  it  is  once  more  proved  that  fi'om  a  high 

position  one  overlooks  all  human  littlenesses    .       71 

XIV.  In  whicli  matters  go  so  far  that  the  inhabitants  of 

Quiquendone,  the  reader,  aud  even  the  author, 
demand  an  immediate  denouement    ...       82 


VI 


Contents. 


XV. 
XVI. 


XVII. 


In  which  the  denouement  takes  place       .         .  85 
In  which  the  intelligent  reader  sees  that  he  has 
guessed  correctly,  desiTite  all  the  author's  pre- 
cautions          .       86 

In  wliich  Doctor  0.x's  theoiy  is  explained        .  88 


Master  Zacharius. 

I.    A  Winter's  Night 


II.  The  Pride  of  Science 

III.  A  Strange  Visit    . 

IV.  The  Church  of  St.  Pierre 
V.  The  Hour  of  Death 


A  Dkama  in  the  Air 


Winter  in  the  Ice. 
I.   The  Black  Flag  . 
II.    Jean  Cornlnitte's  Project 

III.  A  Ray  of  Hope  . 

IV.  In  the  Passes 

V.    Liverpool  Island 
VI.    The  Quaking  of  the  Ice  . 
Settling  for  the  Winter 
Plan  of  the  Exijlorations 
The  House  of  Snow     . 
Buried  Alive  . 
A  Cloud  of  Smoke 
XII.    The  Return  to  the  Ship  . 

XIII.  The  Two  Rivals  . 

XIV.  Distress  .        .        .         • 
XV.    The  White  Bears 

XVI.    Conclusion 


VII. 

VIII, 

IX. 

X 

XI 


The  Fortieth  French  Ascension  of  Moht  Blanc 


91 

102 
110 
120 
129 

143 


171 
178 
185 
190 
195 
201 
208 
213 
217 
222 
229 
235 
241 
246 
251 
258 

265 


LIST  OF  ILLTISTEATIONS. 


Foe    hours    together    they    exchanged    soft 

"WORDS       ........    Front. 

The  orchestra  was  really  intoxicated      .      Page  46 
The  old  watchmaker  was  upright  in  the  jiid- 

DLE   OF   the   room 100 

"Let  us  cut  these  cords!"     ....         168 
They  struck  each  other  violently  .        .        .     256 


DOCTOR  OX'S  EXPERIMENT. 


HOW   IT   IS    USELESS    TO    SEEK,    EVEN     ON    THE    BEST 
MAPS,    FOR   THE    SMALL    TOWN    OF    QUIQUENDONE. 

?]F  you  try  to  find,  on  any  map  of  Flanders, 
ancient  or  modern,  the  small  town  of 
Quiquendone,  probably  you  will  not  suc- 
ceed. Is  Quiquendone,  then,  one  of  those 
towns  which  have  disappeared  1  No.  A  town  of 
the  future '?  By  no  means.  It  exists  despite  geog- 
raphies, and  has  existed  for  some  eight  or  nine 
hundred  years.  It  even  numbers  two  thousand 
three  hundred  and  ninety-three  souls,  if  we  allow 
a  sold  to  each  inhabitant.  It  is  situated  thirteen 
and  a  half  kilometres  northwest  of  Audenarde, 
and  fifteen  and  a  quarter  kilometres  southeast  of 
Bniges,  in  the  middle  of  Flanders.  The  Vaar,  a 
small  tributary  of  the  Escaut,  passes  beneath  its 
three  bridges,  which  are  still  covered  with  a 
quaint  roof  of  the  mediaeval  ages,  as  at  Tournay. 
An  old  chateau  is  to  be  seen  there,  the  first  stone 
of  which  was  laid,  so  long  ago  as  1197,  by  the 
Count  Baudouin,  afterwards  Emperor  of  Constan- 
tinople ;  and  there  is  a  City  Hall,  with  Gothic 
1  A 


2  Doctor  Ox's  Experiment. 

windows,  crowned  by  a  chaplet  of  battlements, 
and  topped  by  a  turreted  belfry,  which  rises  three 
hundred  and  fifty-seven  feet  above  the  soil.  Every 
hour  you  may  hear  thei'e  a  chime  of  five  octaves, 
a  veritable  aerial  piano,  the  renown  of  which  sur- 
passes that  of  the  famous  chimes  of  Bruges. 
Strangers  —  if  any  ever  come  to  Quiquendone  — 
do  not  quit  the  curious  old  town  until  they  have 
visited  its  "  Stadtholder's  Hall,"  adorned  by  a 
full-length  portrait  of  William  of  Nassau,  by 
Brandon ;  the  loft  of  the  Church  of  Saint  Ma- 
gloire,  a  masterpiece  of  the  architectiire  of  the 
sixteenth  century  ;  the  well  of  forged  iron  in  the 
spacious  Place  Saint  Ernuph,  the  admirable  orna- 
mentation of  which  is  attributed  to  the  artist- 
blacksmith,  Quentin  Metsys ;  the  tomb  formerly 
erected  to  Mary  of  Burgundy,  daughter  of  Charles 
the  Bold,  who  now  reposes  in  the  Church  of  Notre 
Dame  at  Bruges ;  and  so  on.  The  principal  indus- 
try of  Quiquendone  is  the  manufacture  of  whipped 
creams  and  barley-sugar  on  a  large  scale.  It  has 
been  governed  by  the  Van  Tricasses,  from  father  to 
son,  for  several  centuries.  And  yet  Quiquendone 
does  not  appear  upon  the  map  of  Flanders  !  Have 
the  geographers  forgotten  it,  or  is  it  a  voluntary 
omission  %  That  I  cannot  tell ;  but  Quiquendone 
really  exists,  with  its  narrow  streets,  its  fortified 
walls,  its  Spanish-looking  houses,  its  market,  and 
its  burgomaster,  —  so  much  so,  that  it  has  re- 
cently been  the  theatre  of  some  surprising  phe- 
nomena, as  extraordinary  and  incredible  as  they 
are  true,  which  are  to  be  recounted  in  the  present 
narx'ation. 


Doctor  Ox's  Ex-periment.  3 

Surely  there  is  nothing  to  be  said  or  thought 
against  the  Flemings  of  Western  Flanders.  They 
are  a  well-to-do  folk,  wise,  prudent,  social,  with 
even  tempers,  hospitable,  perhaps  a  little  heavy 
in  conversation  as  in  mind ;  but  this  does  not  ex- 
plain why  one  of  the  most  interesting  towns  of 
their  section  has  yet  to  figure  on  modern  maps. 

This  omission  is  certainly  to  be  regretted.  If 
only  history,  or  in  default  of  history  the  chroni- 
cles, or  in  default  of  chronicles  the  traditions- 
of  the  countr}',  made  mention  of  Quiquendone  ! 
But  no ;  neither  atlases,  guides,  nor  itineraries- 
sjieak  of  it.  M.  Joanne  himself,  the  energetic 
hunter  after  small  towns,  says  not  a  word  of  it. 
It  might  be  readily  conceived  that  this  silence 
would  injure  the  commerce,  the  industries,  of  the 
town.  But  let  us  hasten  to  add  that  Quiquendone 
has  neither  industry  nor  commerce,  and  that  it 
dispenses  with  them  as  easily  as  possible.  Its 
barley-sugar  and  whipped  cream  are  consumed  on 
the  spot ;  none  is  exported.  In  short,  the  Qui- 
quendonians  have  no  need  of  anybody.  Their 
desires  are  restricted,  their  existence  is  a  modest 
one  ;  they  are  calm,  moderate,  phlegmatic,  —  in  a 
word,  Flemings ;  such  as  are  still  to  be  met  with 
sometimes  between  the  Escaut  and  the  North 
Sea. 


Doctor  Ox's  JExjieriment. 


11. 


IN  WHICH  THE  BURGOMASTER  VAN  TRICASSE  AND  THE 
COUNSELLOR  NIKLAUSSE  CONSULT  ABOUT  THE  AF- 
FAIRS   OF    THE    TOWN. 

OU  think  so  1 "  asked  the  burgomaster. 
"I  —  think    so,"    replied    the    coun- 
sellor, after  some  minutes  of  silence. 
"  You  see,  we  must  not  act  hastily," 
resumed  the  burgomaster. 

"  We  have  been  talking  over  this  grave  matter 
for  ten  years,"  returned  the  counsellor  Niklausse, 
"  and  I  confess  to  you,  my  worthy  Van  Tricasse, 
that  I  cannot  yet  take  it  upon  myself  to  come  to 
a  decision." 

"  I  quite  understand  your  hesitation,"  said  the 
burgomaster,  who  did  not  speak  until  after  a  good 
quarter  of  an  hour  of  reflection,  —  "I  quite  under- 
stand it,  and  I  fully  share  it.  We  shall  do  wisely 
to  decide  upon  nothing  without  a  more  careful 
examination  of  the  question." 

"  It  is  certain,"  replied  Niklausse,  "  that  this 
post  of  civil  commissary  is  useless  in  so  peaceful 
a  town  as  Qaiquendone." 

"  Our  predecessor,"  said  Van  Tricasse,  gravely, 
—  "our  predecessor  never  said,  never  would  have 
dared  to  say,  that  anything  is  certain.  Every 
afl&rmation  is  subject  to  disagreeable  accidents." 

The  counsellor  nodded  his  head  slowly  in  token 


Doctor  Ox's  Experiment.  5 

of  assent ;  then  he  remained  silent  nearly  half  an 
hour.  After  this  lapse  of  time,  during  which  nei- 
ther the  counsellor  nor  the  burgomaster  moved  so 
much  as  a  finger,  Niklausse  asked  Van  Tricasse 
whether  his  predecessor  —  of  some  twenty  years 
before  —  had  not  thought  of  suppressing  this 
ofl&ce  of  civil  commissary,  which  each  year  cost 
the  town  of  Quiquendone  the  sum  of  thLrteen  hun- 
dred and  seventy-five  francs  and  some  centimes. 

"  I  believe  he  did,"  replied  the  burgomaster, 
carrying  his  hand  with  majestic  deliberation  to  his 
limpid  forehead ;  "  but  the  worthy  man  died  be- 
fore having  dared  to  make  up  his  mind,  either  as 
to  this  or  any  other  administrative  measure.  He 
was  a  sage.     Why  should  I  not  do  as  he  did  1 " 

Counsellor  Niklausse  was  incapable  of  imagin- 
ing a  reason  which  might  contradict  the  burgo- 
master's opinion. 

"  The  man  who  dies,"  added  Van  Tricasse,  sol- 
emnly, "  without  ever  having  decided  upon  any- 
thing during  his  life,  has  very  nearly  reached 
perfection  in  this  world  !  " 

This  said,  the  burgomaster  pressed,  with  the 
end  of  his  little  finger,  a  bell,  with  a  stifled  sound, 
which  seemed  less  a  sound  than  a  sigh.  Presently 
some  light  steps  glided  softly  across  the  tile  floor. 
A  mouse  would  not  have  made  less  noise,  running 
over  a  thick  carpet.  The  door  of  the  room  opened, 
turning  on  its  well-oiled  hinges.  A  young  girl, 
with  long  blond  tresses,  made  her  appearance.  It 
was  Suzel  Van  Tricasse,  the  burgomaster's  only 
daughter.  She  handed  her  father  a  pipe,  filled  to 
the  brim,  and  a  small  copper  brazier,  spoke  not  a 


6  Doctor  Ox's  Experiment. 

word,  and  disappeared  at  once,  making  no  more 
noise  at  her  exit  than  at  her  entrance. 

The  worthy  burgomaster  hghted  his  brazier,  and 
soon  enveloped  himself  in  a  cloud  of  bluish  smoke, 
leaving  counsellor  Niklausse  plunged  in  the  most 
absorbing  thought. 

The  room  in  which  these  two  notable  person- 
ages, charged  with  the  government  of  Quiquendone, 
were  talking,  was  a  parlor  richly  adorned  with 
sculptures  in  dark  wood.  A  lofty  fireplace,  in 
which  an  oak  might  have  been  burned  or  an  ox 
roasted,  occupied  the  whole  of  one  of  the  sides  of 
the  room ;  opposite  to  it  was  a  window^  with  a 
trellis,  the  painted  glass  of  which  sifted  softly  the 
sun's  rays.  In  an  antiqi;e  frame  above  the  chim- 
ney-piece appeared  the  portrait  of  some  woi'thy 
man,  attributed  to  Hemling,  which  no  doubt  repre- 
sented an  ancestor  of  the  Van  Tricasses,  whose  au- 
thentic genealogy  rises  to  the  fourteenth  centiuy, 
the  period  when  the  Flemings  and  Guy  de  Dam- 
pieri'e  were  engaged  in  wars  with  the  Emperor 
Rudolph  of  Hapsbiirg. 

This  parlor  was  the  principal  apartment  of  the 
burgomaster's  house,  which  was  one  of  the  pleas- 
antest  in  Quiquendone.  Constructed  in  the 
Flemish  style,  with  all  the  abruptness,  caprice, 
picturesqueness,  and  fixncifulness  of  the  pointed 
architecture,  it  was  regarded  as  one  of  the  most 
curious  monuments  of  the  town.  A  Chartreux 
convent,  or  a  blind  and  deaf  asylum,  was  not 
more  silent  than  this  mansion.  Noise  had  no 
existence  there  ;  people  did  not  walk,  but  glided 
about  in  it ;  they  did  not  speak,  they  murmured. 


Doctor  Ox's  Exjoeriment.  7 

Still  there  were  not  wanting  women  in  the  house, 
which,  besides  the  burgomaster  Van  Tricasse  him- 
self, sheltered  also  his  wife,  Madame  Brigitte  Van 
Tricasse,  his  daughter,  Suzel  Van  Txicasse,  and 
his  domestic,  Lotche  Jansheu.  We  might  also 
mention  the  burgomaster's  sister,  Aunt  Hermance, 
an  elderly  maiden  who  still  bore  the  nickname  of 
Tatanemance,  which  her  niece  Suzel  had  given 
her  when  a  child.  Well,  despite  all  these  ele- 
ments of  discoi'd  and  noise,  the  burgomaster's 
house  was  as  calm  as  a  desert. 

The  burgomaster  was  some  fifty  yeai's  old,  nei- 
ther fat  nor  lean,  neither  short  nor  tall,  neither 
rubicund  nor  pale,  neither  gay  nor  sad,  neither 
contented  nor  discontented,  neither  energetic  nor 
dull,  neither  proud  nor  humble,  neither  good  nor 
bad,  neither  generous  nor  miserly,  neither  coura- 
geous nor  cowardly,  neither  too  much  nor  too  little 
of  anything,  —  a  man  notably  moderate  in  every- 
thing ;  but  from  the  invariable  slowness  of  his 
movements,  his  rather  hanging  lower  jaw,  his 
upper  lid  permanently  raised,  his  compact  forehead, 
as  smooth  as  a  copperplate  and  without  a  wrinkle, 
a  physiognomist  would  without  difficulty  have 
decided  that  the  burgomaster  Van  Tricasse  was 
phlegm  personified.  Never,  either  fi'om  anger  or 
passion,  had  any  emotion  whatever  hastened  the 
beating  of  this  man's  heart,  or  flushed  his  face ; 
never  had  his  pupils  contracted  under  the  influ- 
ence of  any  irritation,  however  ephemeral.  He 
was  invariably  clad  in  good  clothes,  neither  too 
large  nor  too  small,  which  he  never  seemed  to 
wear  out.     He  was  shod  with  large  square  shoes 


8  Doctor  Oois  Experiment. 

with  triple  soles  and  silver  buckles,  which  lasted 
so  long  that  his  shoemaker  was  in  despair.  Upon 
his  head  he  wore  a  large  hat  which  dated  from  the 
period  when  Flanders  was  separated  from  Holland, 
so  that  this  venerable  masterpiece  was  at  least 
forty  years  old.  But  what  would  you  have  %  It 
is  the  passions  which  wear  out  body  as  well  as 
soul,  the  clothes  as  well  as  the  body;  and  our 
worthy  burgomaster,  apathetic,  indolent,  indiffer- 
ent, was  passionate  in  nothing.  He  wore  nothing 
out,  himself  included,  and  thus  he  regarded  him- 
self as  precisely  the  man  to  administer  the  affairs 
of  Quiquendone  and  its  tranquil  population. 

The  town,  indeed,  was  not  less  calm  than  the 
Van  Tricasse  mansion.  It  was  in  this  peaceful 
dwelling  that  the  burgomaster  reckoned  on  attain- 
ing the  utmost  limit  of  human  existence,  after 
having,  however,  seen  the  good  Madame  Brigitte 
Van  Tricasse,  his  wife,  precede  him  to  the  tomb, 
where,  surely,  she  would  not  find  a  more  profound 
repose  than  that  she  had  tasted  on  earth  for  sixty 
years. 

This  demands  explanation. 

The  Van  Tricasse  family  might  well  call  itself 
the  "  Jeannot  family."     This  is  why  :  — 

Every  one  knows  that  the  knife  of  this  typical 
pei'sonage  is  as  celebrated  as  its  proprietor,  and 
not  less  incapable  of  use,  thanks  to  the  double 
operation,  incessantly  repeated,  of  replacing  the 
handle  when  it  is  worn  out,  and  the  blade  when  it 
becomes  worthless.  Such  was  the  operation,  quite 
the  same,  which  had  been  going  on  ft'om  time  im- 
memorial in  the  Van  Tricasse  family,  and  to  which 


Doctor  Ox's  Experiment.  9 

Nature  had  lent  herself  with  a  more  than  usual 
complacency.  From  1340  it  had  invariably  hap- 
pened that  a  Van  Tricasse,  when  left  a  widower, 
had  remarried  a  Van  Tricasse  younger  than  him- 
self; who,  becoming  in  turn  a  widow,  had  married 
again  a  Van  Tricasse  younger  than  herself;  and 
so  on,  without  a  solution  of  the  continuity,  from 
generation  to  generation.  Each  died  in  his  or  her 
turn  with  mechanical  regularity.  Thus  the  wor- 
thy Madame  Brigitte  Van  Tricasse  had  now  her 
second  husband,  and,  unless  she  violated  her  every 
duty,  would  precede  her  spouse,  he  being  ten  years 
younger  than  herself,  to  the  other  world,  that  she 
might  make  room  for  a  new  Madame  Van  Tricasse. 
Upon  this  the  burgomaster  serenely  reckoned,  so 
as  not  to  break  the  family  tradition.  Such  was 
this  mansion,  peaceful  and  silent,  of  which  the 
doors  never  ci-eaked,  the  windows  never  rattled, 
the  floors  never  groaned,  the  chimneys  never 
roared,  the  weathercocks  never  grated,  the  furni- 
ture never  squeaked,  the  locks  never  clanked,  and 
the  occupants  never  made  more  noise  than  their 
shadows.  The  god  Harpocrates  would  certainly 
have  chosen  it  for  the  Temple  of  Silence. 


1* 


10  Doctor  Ox's  Experiment. 


III. 


IN    WHICH    THE     COMMISSARY     PASSAUF    ENTERS    AS 
NOISILY    AS    UNEXPECTEDLY. 

ilHEN  the  interesting  conversation  which 
has  been  narrated  began,  it  was  a  quar- 
ter before  three  in  the  afternoon.  It  was 
at  a  quarter  before  four  that  Van  Tri- 
casse  hghted  his  enormous  pipe,  which  could  hold 
a  quart  of  tobacco ;  and  it  was  at  thirty-five  min- 
utes past  five  that  he  finished  smoking  it. 

During  all  this  time  the  two  interlocvitors  did 
not  exchange  a  single  word. 

About  six  o'clock  the  counsellor,  who  always  pro- 
ceeded by  pretention,  resumed  in  these  words  :  — 

"  So  we  decide  —  " 

"  To  decide  nothing,"  replied  the  burgomaster. 

"  I  think,  on  the  whole,  that  you  are  right.  Van 
Tricasse." 

"  I  think  so  too,  Niklausse.  We  will  take  steps 
with  reference  to  the  civil  commissary  when  we 
have  more  light  on  the  subject,  —  later  on,  —  there 
is  no  need  for  a  month  yet." 

"  Nor  even  for  a  year,"  replied  Niklausse,  un- 
folding his  pocket-handkerchief  and  discreetly 
applying  it  to  his  nose. 

There  was  another  silence  of  nearly  a  quarter  of 
an  hour.  Nothing  disturbed  this  repeated  pause 
in  the  conversation ;  not  even  the  appearance  of 


Doctor  Ox's  Experiment.  11 

the  house-dog,  Lento,  who,  not  less  phlegmatic 
than  his  master,  came  to  make  a  polite  promenade 
around  the  parlor.  Noble  dog !  A  model  for  his 
kind.  He  might  have  been  made  of  pasteboard, 
with  wheels  on  his  paws,  and  he  would  not  have 
made  less  noise  during  his  stay. 

Towai'ds  eight  o'clock,  after  Lotche  had  brought 
the  antique  lamp  of  polished  glass,  the  burgo- 
master said  to  the  counsellor,  — 

"  We  have  no  other  urgent  matter  to  consider"? " 
"  No,  Van  Tricasse  ;  none  that  1  know  of." 
"  Have  I  not  been  told,  though,"  asked  the  bur- 
gomaster,  "  that  the  tower  of  the  Audenarde  gate 
was  likely  to  fall  into  ruin  1 " 

"  Ah !  "  replied  the  counsellor  ;  "  really,  I  should 
not  be  astonished  if  it  fell  on  some  passer-by  any 
day." 

"  0,  before  such  a  misfortune  happens,  T  hope 
we  shall  have  come  to  a  decision  on  the  subject  of 
this  tower." 

"  I  hope  so,  Van  Tricasse." 

"  There  are  more  pressing  subjects  to  determine." 
"  No  doubt ;  the  question  of  the  leather-market, 
for  instance." 

"What,  is  it  still  burning]" 
"  Still  burning ;  for  three  weeks  now." 
"  Have  we   not   decided,   in   council,    to   let   it 
burn  1 " 

"  Yes,  Van  Tricasse,  — -  on  your  motion." 
"  Was  it  not  the  surest  and  simplest  means  to 
adopt  with  reference  to  this  fire  1 " 
"  Without  doubt." 
"  Well,  let  us  wait.     Is  this  all  1 " 


12  Doctor  Ox's  Experiment. 

"All,"  replied  the  counsellor,  scratching  his 
head  as  if  to  assure  himself  that  he  had  not  for- 
gotten some  imjiortant  subject. 

"  Ah  !  "  said  the  burgomaster,  "  have  n't  you 
heard  mention  also  of  an  escape  of  water  which 
threatens  to  inundate  the  low  quarter  of  Saint 
Jacques  1 " 

"  I  have.  It  is,  indeed,  unfortunate  that  this 
escape  of  water  should  not  have  happened  over 
the  leather-market !  It  would  naturally  have  re- 
sisted the  fii'e,  and  would  thus  have  saved  us  a 
good  deal  of  discussion." 

"  What  would  j^ou  have,  Niklaiisse  1  There  is 
nothing  so  illogical  as  accidents.  They  have  no 
order  among  them,  and  we  cannot  profit  of  one, 
as  we  might  wish,  to  remedy  another." 

This  fine  observation  of  Van  Tricasse  demanded 
some  time  to  be  digested  by  his  companion  and 
friend. 

"  Well,  but,"  resumed  the  counsellor  Niklausse, 
after  the  lapse  of  some  moments,  "we  have  not 
spoken  of  our  great  affair  !  " 

"  What  great  affair  1  Have  w^e,  then,  a  great 
affair?"  asked  the  burgomaster. 

"  No  doubt.     About  lighting  the  town." 

"  0  yes.  If  my  memory  serves  me,  you  are  re- 
ferring to  the  lighting  plan  of  Doctor  Ox." 

"  Precisely." 

"It  is  going  on,  Niklausse,"  replied  the  burgo- 
master. "  They  are  already  laying  the  pipes,  and 
the  works  are  entirely  completed." 

"  Perhaps  we  have  hurried  a  little  in  this  mat- 
ter," said  the  counsellor,  shaking  his  head. 


Doctor  Ox's  Experiment.  13 

"  Perhaps.  But  our  excuse  is,  that  Doctor  Ox 
bears  the  whole  expense  of  his  experiment.  It 
will  not  cost  us  a  denier." 

"  That  is,  sure  enough,  our  excuse.  Then  we 
must  advance  with  the  age.  If  the  experiment 
succeeds,  Quiquendone  will  be  the  first  town  in 
Flanders  to  be  lighted  with  the  oxy  —  what  is  the 
gas  called  ? " 

"  Oxyhydric  gas." 

"  Good  for  the  oxyhydric  gas  !  " 

At  this  moment  the  door  opened,  and  Lotch6 
came  in  to  announce  to  the  burgomaster  that  his 
supper  was  ready. 

Counsellor  Niklausse  rose  to  take  leave  of  Van 
Tricasse,  whose  appetite  had  been  stimulated  by 
so  many  affairs  discussed  and  decisions  taken ; 
and  it  was  agi'eed  that  the  council  of  notables 
should  be  convened  after  a  reasonably  long  delay, 
to  determine  whether  a  decision  should  be  provis- 
ionally arrived  at  with  reference  to  the  really  ur- 
gent matter  of  the  Audenarde  gate. 

The  two  worthy  administrators  then  directed 
their  steps  towards  the  street  door,  the  one  con- 
ducting the  other.  The  counsellor,  having  readied 
the  last  step,  lighted  a  little  lantern  to  guide  him 
through  the  obscure  streets  of  Quiquendone,  which 
Doctor  Ox  had  not  yet  lighted.  The  night  was 
dark,  it  was  October,  and  a  light  fog  overshadowed 
the  town. 

Niklaussc's  preparations  for  departure  consumed 
at  least  a  quarter  of  an  hour ;  for,  after  having 
lighted  his  lantern,  he  had  to  put  on  his  big  cow. 
skin   socks   and   his   sheepskin   gloves;   then   he 


14  Doctor  Ox's  Experiment. 

raised  the  furred  collar  of  his  overcoat,  pulled  his 
visor  down  over  his  eyes,  grasped  his  heavy  crow- 
beaked  umbrella,  and  disposed  himself  to  depart. 

At  the  moment  that  Lotche,  who  was  lighting 
her  master,  was  about  to  draw  the  bars  of  the 
door,  an  unexpected  noise  rose  without. 

Yes  !  Strange  as  the  thing  seems,  a  noise,  ■ —  a 
real  noise,  such  as  the  town  had  certainly  not 
heard  since  the  taking  of  the  donjon  by  the  Span- 
iards in  1513,  —  a  terrible  noise,  awoke  the  long 
dormant  echoes  of  the  venerable  Van  Tricasse  man- 
sion. 

Some  one  knocked  heavily  upon  this  door,  hith- 
erto virgin  to  brutal  touch  !  Redoubled  knocks, 
with  some  blunt  implement,  which  seemed  a 
knotty  stick  wielded  by  a  vigorous  arm,  re- 
sounded. With  the  strokes  were  mingled  cries 
and  calls.     These  words  were  distinctly  heard  :  — 

"  Monsieur  Van  Tricasse  I  Monsieur  the  burgo- 
master !     Open,  open  quickly  !  " 

The  burgomaster  and  the  counsellor,  absolutely 
astounded,  looked  at  each  other  speechless. 

This  passed  their  imagination.  If  some  one 
had  fired  off  the  old  culverin  of  the  chateau,  which 
had  not  been  used  since  1385,  in  the  parlor,  the 
dwellers  in  the  Van  Tricasse  mansion  would  not 
have  been  more  diunfoundered. 

Meanwhile  the  blows  and  cries  were  redoubled. 
Lotche,  recovering  her  coolness,  had  the  hardihood 
to  speak. 

"Who  is  there?" 

"  It  is  I  !  I !  I !  " 

"  Who  are  you  ? " 


Doctor  Ox's  Experiment.  15 

"  The  commissary  Passauf !  " 

The  commissary  Passauf !  The  very  man 
whose  office  it  had  been  contemplated  to  suppi'ess 
for  ten  years.  What  had  happened,  then  1  Could 
the  Burgundians  have  invaded  Quiquendone,  as 
they  did  in  the  fourteenth  century  1  No  event  of 
less  importance  could  have  so  moved  commissary 
Passauf,  who  was  not  outdone  by  the  burgomaster 
himself  in  calmness  and  phlegm. 

On  a  sign  from  Van  Tricasse  —  for  the  worthy 
man  could  not  have  articulated  a  syllable  —  the 
bar  was  pushed  back  and  the  door  opened. 

Commissary  Passauf  precipitated  himself  into 
the  antechamber.  One  would  have  thought  there 
was  a  tempest. 

"  What 's  the  matter,  monsieur  the  commis- 
sary % "  asked  Lotche,  a  brave  woman,  who  did  not 
lose  her  head  under  yet  graver  circumstances. 

"  What 's  the  matter  !  "  replied  Passauf,  whose 
big  round  eyes  expressed  a  genuine  agitation. 
"  The  matter  is  that  I  have  just  come  from  Doc- 
tor Ox's,  who  has  been  holdiug  a  reception,  and 
that  there  —  " 

"  There  r' 

"  There  I  have  witnessed  such  an  altercation 
as  —  Monsieur  the  burgomaster,  they  have  been 
talking  politics  ! " 

"  Politics  !  "  repeated  Van  Tricasse,  erecting  his 
peruke. 

"  Politics  !  "  resumed  commissary  Passauf ; 
"  what  has  not  been  done  for  perhaps  a  hundred 
years  at  Quiquendone.  Then  the  discussion  got 
warm,  and   the   advocate  Andre   Schut   and   the 


16  Doctor  Ox's  Experiment. 

doctor  Dominique  Gustos  became  so  violent  that 
it  may  be  they  will  call  each  other  out." 

"  Call  each  other  out !  "  cried  the  counsellor. 
"  A  duel !  A  duel  at  Quiquendone  !  And  what 
did  advocate  Schut  and  Doctor  Gustos  say  %  " 

"  Just  this  :  '  Monsieur  advocate,'  said  the  doc- 
tor to  his  adversary,  'you  go  too  far,  it  seems  to 
me,  and  you  do  not  weigh  well  your  words  ! '  " 

The  burgomaster  Van  Tricasse  clasped  his 
hands.  The  counsellor  turned  pale,  and  let  his 
lantern  fall.  The  commissary  shook  his  head. 
A  phrase  so  evidently  irritating,  pronounced  by 
two  of  the  principal  men  in  the  country  ! 

"  This  Doctor  Gustos,"  muttered  Van  Tricasse, 
"  is  decidedly  a  dangerous  man,  a  rash-headed 
fellow  !     Gome,  gentlemen  !  " 

On  this,  counsellor  Niklausse  and  the  commis- 
sary accompanied  the  burgomaster  into  the  par- 
lor. 


Doctor  Ox's  Experiment.  17 


IV. 


IN  WHICH  DOCTOR  OX  REVEALS  HIMSELF  AS  A 
PHYSIOLOGIST  OF  THE  FIRST  RANK,  AND  AS  AX 
AUDACIOUS    EXPERIMENTER. 

HO,  then,  was  this  personage,  known  by 
the  singular  name  of  Doctor  Ox  % 

Certainly  an  original  character,  but  at 
the  same  time  a  bold  man  of  science,  a 
physiologist,  whose  works  were  known  and  highly 
estimated  throughout  learned  Europe,  a  happy 
rival  of  the  Davys,  the  Daltons,  the  Bostocks,  the 
Menzies,  the  Godwins,  the  Vierordts,  —  of  all  those 
noble  minds  who  have  placed  physiology  among 
the  highest  of  modern  sciences. 

Doctor  Ox  was  a  man  of  medium  size  and 
height,  aged  —  But  we  cannot  state  his  age,  any 
more  than  his  nationality.  Besides,  it  little  mat- 
ters ;  let  it  suffice  that  he  was  a  strange  personage, 
with  warm,  impetuous  blood,  a  real  eccentricity 
out  of  one  of  Hoffmann's  volumes,  and  one  who 
contrasted  amusingly  enough  with  the  good  people 
of  Quiquendone.  He  had,  both  in  himself  and  in 
his  doctrines,  an  imperturbable  confidence.  Always 
smiling,  walking  with  head  erect  and  easy  shoul- 
ders, freely  and  unconstrainedly,  with  a  steady 
gaze,  large  open  nostrils,  a  vast  mouth  which  in- 
haled the  air  at  libex'al  draughts,  his  appearance 
was   far   from   unpleasuig.     He   was   very   much 


18  Doctor  Ox^s  Experiment. 

alive,  well  balanced  in  all  parts  of  his  bodily 
mechanism,  with  quicksilver  in  his  veins  and  a 
hundred  needles  under  his  feet.  He  could  never 
remain  still  in  one  place,  and  he  relieved  himself 
with  impetixous  words  and  an  abundance  of  ges- 
tui'es. 

Was  Doctor  Ox  rich,  then,  that  he  should  un- 
dertalie  to  light  a  whole  town  at  his  expense  1 
Probably,  as  he  permitted  himself  to  indulge  in 
such  luxuries,  —  and  this  is  the  only  answer  we 
can  give  to  this  indiscreet  question. 

Doctor  Ox  had  arrived  at  Quiquendone  five 
months  before,  accompanied  by  his  assistant,  who 
answered  to  the  name  of  Gedeon  Ygene ;  a  tall, 
dry,  thin  man,  not  less  vivacious  than  his  master. 

And  now,  why  had  Doctor  Ox  made  the  propo- 
sition to  light  the  town  at  his  own  expense  ]  Why 
had  he,  of  all  the  Flemings,  selected  the  peaceable 
Quiquendonians,  to  endow  whose  town  with  the 
benefits  of  an  unheard-of  system  of  lighting  1 
Did  he  not,  imder  this  pretext,  design  to  make 
some  great  physiological  experiment  by  operating 
in  anima  vili  ?  In  short,  what  was  this  original 
personage  about  to  attempt  %  We  know  not,  as 
Doctor  Ox  had  no  confidant  except  his  assistant 
Ygene,  who  obeyed  him  blindly. 

In  appearance,  at  least,  Doctor  Ox  had  agreed  to 
light  the  town,  which  had  much  need  of  it,  —  "above 
all  at  night,"  as  commissary  Passauf  finely  said. 
Works  for  producing  a  lighting  gas  had  accordingly 
been  established.  The  gasometers  were  ready  for 
service,  and  the  conducting  pipes,  circulating  be- 
neath the  street  pavements,  were  about  to  expand 


Doctor  Ox's  Experiment.  19 

in  the  form  of  bui'ners  in  the  public  edifices,  and 
the  private  houses  of  certain  friends  of  progress. 

If  the  reader  has  not  forgotten,  it  was  said, 
during  the  long  conversation  of  the  counsellor  and 
the  burgomaster,  that  the  lighting  of  the  town 
was  to  be  achieved,  not  by  the  combustion  of 
common  carburet  of  hydrogen,  which  is  furnished 
by  distilling  coal,  but  by  the  use  of  a  more  modern 
and  twenty-fold  more  brilliant  gas,  oxyhj'dric  gas, 
produced  by  mixing  hydrogen  and  oxygen. 

The  doctor,  who  was  an  able  chemist  as  well  as 
an  ingenious  physiologist,  knew  how  to  obtain 
this  gas  in  great  quantity  and  of  good  quality, 
not  by  using  manganate  of  soda,  according  to 
the  method  of  M.  Tessie  du  Motay,  but  simpl}^  by 
decomposing  water,  slightly  acidulous,  by  means 
of  a  pile  made  of  new  elements,  invented  by  him- 
self. Thus  there  were  no  costly  substances,  no 
platinum,  no  retorts,  no  combustibles,  no  delicate 
machinery  for  procuring  the  isolation  of  the  two 
gases.  An  electric  current  traversed  large  basins 
full  of  water,  and  the  liquid  element  was  decom- 
posed into  its  two  constituent  parts,  oxygen  and 
hydrogen.  The  oxygen  passed  off  on  one  side  ; 
the  hydi'ogen,  of  double  the  volume  of  its  late  asso- 
ciate, passed  off  on  the  other.  Both  were  collected 
in  separate  reservoirs,  —  a  necessary  precaution, 
for  their  mixtui-e  would  have  produced  a  frightful 
explosion,  if  it  had  become  ignited.  Then  the 
pipes  wei'e  to  convey  them  separately  to  the  vari- 
ous burners,  which  would  be  so  placed  as  to  pre- 
vent any  explosion.  Thus  a  remarkably  brilliant 
flame  would  be  obtained,  the  light  of  which  would 


20  Doctor  Ox's  Experiment. 

rival  the  electric  light,  which,  as  everybody  knows, 
is,  according  to  Cussellmann's  experiments,  equal 
to  that  of  eleven  hundred  and  seventy-one  wax- 
candles,  —  not  one  moi'e,  nor  one  less. 

It  was  certain  that  the  town  of  Quiquendone 
would,  by  this  liberal  combination,  gain  a  splendid 
lighting  ;  but  Doctor  Ox  and  his  assistant  took 
little  account  of  this,  as  will  be  seen  in  the  sequel. 

The  day  after  that  on  which  commissary  Pas- 
sauf  had  made  his  noisy  entrance  into  the  burgo- 
master's parlor,  Gideon  Yg^ne  and  Doctor  Ox 
wei*e  talking  in  the  laboratory  which  both  occu- 
pied in  common,  on  the  gi-ound-floor  of  the  princi- 
pal building  of  the  gas-works. 

"  Well,  Ygene,  well,"  cried  the  doctor,  rubbing 
his  hands.  "  You  saw  the  worthj^  Quiquendonians 
at  my  reception  yesterday,  with  their  cool-blood- 
edness.  In  the  vivacity  of  their  passions,  they 
are  midway  between  sponges  and  coral  excrescen- 
ces !  You  saw  them  disjiuting  and  irritating  each 
other  by  voice  and  gesture  1  They  are  already 
metamorphosed,  morally  and  physically  !  And  it 
bas  only  begun.  Wait  till  we  treat  them  to  a  big 
dose  !  " 

"  Indeed,  master,"  replied  Ygene,  scratching  his 
sharp  nose  with  the  end  of  his  forefinger,  "  the  ex- 
periment begins  well,  and  if  I  had  not  prudently 
closed  the  tap  of  escape,  I  know  not  what  would 
have  happened." 

"  You  heard  Schut,  the  advocate,  and  Gustos, 
the  doctor  %  "  resumed  Doctor  Ox.  "  The  phrase 
was  by  no  means  ill-natured  in  itself,  but,  in  the 
mouth    of  a  Quiquendonian,    it    amounts  to    the 


Doctor  Ox's  Experiment.  21 

whole  series  of  the  insults  which  the  Homeric  he- 
roes hurled  at  each  other  before  drawing  their 
swords.  Ah,  these  Flemings  !  You  '11  see  w^hat 
we  shall  do  some  day  !  " 

"  We  shall  make  ingrates  of  them,"  replied 
Ygene,  in  the  tone  of  a  man  who  esteems  the  hu- 
man race  at  its  just  worth. 

"  Bah  ! "  said  the  doctor,  "  what  matters  it 
whether  they  think  well  or  ill  of  us,  so  long  as 
our  experiment  succeeds  1 " 

"  Besides,"  returned  the  assistant,  smiling  with 
a  malicious  expression,  "  is  it  not  to  be  feared  that, 
in  producing  such  an  excitement  in  their  respira- 
tory organs,  we  shall  somewhat  disorganize  the 
lungs  of  these  worthy  inhabitants  of  Quiquen- 
done  1  " 

"  So  much  the  worse  for  them  !  It  is  in  the 
interests  of  science.  What  should  you  say  if  the 
dogs  or  frogs  refused  to  lend  themselves  to  the  ex- 
periments of  vivisection  %  " 

It  is  probable  that  if  the  fi'ogs  and  dogs  were 
consulted,  they  would  offer  some  objection  to  the 
operation  of  vivisection  ;  but  Doctor  Ox  imagined, 
that  he  had  stated  an  irrefutable  argument,  for 
he  heaved  a  great  sigh  of  satisfaction. 

"  After  all,  master,  you  are  right,"  replied  Yg^ne, 
as  if  quite  convinced.  "  We  could  not  have  hit 
upon  better  subjects  than  these  people  of  Qui- 
quendone." 

"We  —  could  —  not,"  said  the  doctor,  slowly 
articulating  each  word. 

"  You  have  felt  the  pulse  of  these  beings  \  " 

"  A  hundred  times," 


22  Doctor  Ox's  Experiment. 

"  And  what  is  the  mean  rate  of  their  pulsa- 
tions ] " 

"Not  fifty  per  minute.  Understand,  then;  a 
town  where  there  has  not  been  the  shadow  of  a 
discussion  for  a  century,  where  the  cartmen  do  not 
swear,  where  the  coachmen  do  not  insult  each 
other,  where  horses  do  not  run  away,  where  the 
dogs  do  not  bite,  where  the  cats  do  not  scratch,  — 
a  town  where  the  police  court  stands  still,  with 
nothing  to  do  from  one  year's  end  to  another,  - —  a 
town  where  people  do  not  grow  enthusiastic  about 
anything,  either  about  art  or  business,  —  a  town 
where  the  gendai^mes  are  a  sort  of  m^^ths,  and  in 
which  an  indictment  has  not  been  drawn  up  for  a 
hundred  years,  —  a  town,  in  short,  where  for  three 
centuries  nobody  has  struck  a  blow  with  his  fist 
or  so  much  as  exchanged  a  slaj)  !  You  see,  Ygene, 
that  this  cannot  last,  and  that  we  must  change  it 
all." 

"  Perfect,  perfect !  "  cried  the  enthusiastic  as- 
sistant;  "and  have  you  analyzed  the  air  of  this 
town,  master '? " 

"  I  have  not  failed  to  do  so.  Seventy-nine  parts 
of  azote  and  twenty-one  of  oxygen,  carbonic  acid 
and  water  vapor  in  a  variable  quantity.  These 
are  the  ordinary  proportions." 

"  Good,  Doctor,  good  !  "  replied  Ygene.  "  The 
experiment  will  be  made  on  a  large  scale,  and  will 
be  decisive." 

"  And  if  it  is  decisive,"  added  Doctor  Ox,  tri- 
umphantly,  "  we  shall  reform  the  world  !  " 


Doctor  Ox's  Exjieriment.  23 


IN    WHICH    THE  BURGOMASTER  AND   THE    COUNSELLOR 
PAY   A  VISIT  TO  DOCTOR  OX,  AND   WHAT   FOLLOWS. 

ijHE  counsellor  Niklausse  and  the  burgo- 
^(S^'  master  Van  Tricasse  knew  at  last  what 
it  was  to  have  an  agitated  night.  The 
grave  event  which  had  taken  place  at 
Doctor  Ox's  house  caused  them  real  sleeplessness. 
What  consequences  was  this  affair  destined  to  bring 
about  1  They  could  not  imagine.  Would  it  be 
necessary  to  come  to  a  decision  %  Would  the  mu- 
nicipal authority,  which  thej'  represented,  be  com- 
pelled to  intervene?  Would  they  be  obliged  to 
take  steps  that  so  great  a  scandal  should  not  be 
repeated  1  All  these  doubts  could  not  but  trouble 
these  soft  natures ;  and  on  that  evening,  before 
separating,  the  two  notables  had  "  decided  "  to  see 
each  other  the  next  day. 

On  the  next  morning,  then,  before  dinner,  the 
burgomaster  Van  Tricasse  proceeded  in  person  to 
the  counsellor  Niklausse's  house.  He  found  his 
friend  more  calm.  He  himself  had  recovered  his 
equanimity. 

"  Nothing  new  1 "  asked  Van  Tricasse. 

"  Nothing  new  since  yesterday,"  replied  Ni- 
klausse. 

"  And  the  doctor,  Dominique  Gustos  1 " 

"  I  have  not  heard  anything,  either  of  him  or 
of  the  advocate,  Andre  Schut." 


24  Doctor  Ox's  Experiment. 

After  an  hour's  conversation,  which  consisted  of 
three  remarks  which  it  is  needless  to  repeat,  the 
counsellor  and  the  burgomaster  had  resolved  to 
pay  a  visit  to  Doctor  Ox,  so  as  to  draw  from  him, 
without  seeming  to  do  so,  some  details  of  the 
affair. 

Contrary  to  all  their  habits,  after  coming  to  this 
decision  the  two  notables  set  about  putting  it  into 
execution  forthwith.  They  left  the  house  and 
directed  their  steps  towards  Doctor  Ox's  laboratory, 
which  was  situated  outside  the  town,  near  the 
Audenarde  gate, —  the  gate  whose  tower  threatened 
to  fall  in  ruins. 

They  did  not  take  each  other's  arms,  but  walked 
side  by  side,  with  slow  and  solemn  step,  which 
took  them  forward  but  thirteen  inches  per  second. 
This  was,  indeed,  the  ordinary  gait  of  the  Qui- 
quendonians,  who  had  never,  within  the  memory 
of  man,  seen  any  one  run  through  the  streets  of 
their  town. 

From  time  to  time  the  two  notables  would  stop 
at  some  calm  and  tranquil  square,  at  the  end  of  a 
quiet  street,  to  salute  the  passers-by. 

"  Good  morning,  monsieur  the  burgomaster," 
said  one. 

"  Good  morning,  my  friend,"  responded  Van 
Tricasse. 

"Anything  new,  monsieur  the  counsellor'?" 
asked  another. 

'•  Nothing  new,"  answered  Niklausse. 

But  by  certain  agitated  motions  and  questioning 
looks,  it  was  evident  that  the  altercation  of  the 
evening  before  was  known  throughout  the  town. 


Doctor  Ox's  Experiment.  25 

Observing  the  direction  taken  by  Van  Tricasse,  the 
most  obtuse  Quiqueudonians  guessed  that  the 
burgomaster  was  on  his  way  to  fvdfil  some  grave 
duty.  The  Ciistos  and  Schut  affair  was  talked  of 
everywhere,  but  the  people  had  not  yet  come  to 
the  point  of  taking  the  part  of  one  or  the  other  ad- 
versary. The  advocate  Schut,  having  never  had 
occasion  to  plead  in  a  town  where  attorneys  and 
bailiffs  only  existed  in  tradition,  had,  consequently, 
never  lost  a  suit.  As  for  the  doctor,  Gustos,  he 
was  an  honorable  practitioner,  who,  after  the  ex- 
ample of  his  fellow-doctors,  cured  the  illnesses  of 
all  his  patients,  except  those  of  which  they  died, 
—  a  regrettable  habit,  acquired  unhappily  by  all 
the  members  of  all  the  faculties  in  whatever  coun- 
try they  may  practise. 

On  reaching  the  Audenarde  gate,  the  counsellor 
and  the  burgomaster  prudently  made  a  short  de- 
tour, so  as  not  to  pass  within  range  of  the  tower  in 
case  it  should  fall ;  then  they  turned  and  looked 
at  it  attentive^. 

"  I  think  that  it  will  fall,"  said  Van  Tricasse. 

"  I  think  so  too,"  replied  Niklausse. 

"  Unless  it  is  propped  up,"  added  Van  Tricasse. 
*'  But  must  it  be  propped  up  1  That  is  the  ques- 
tion." 

"  That  is  —  in  brief —  the  question." 

Some  moments  after,  they  reached  the  door  of 
the  gas-works. 

"  Is  Doctor  Ox  visible  %  "  they  asked. 

Doctor  Ox  was  always  visible  to  the  first    au- 
thorities of  the  town,  and  they  were  at  once  intro- 
duced into  the  celebrated  pliysioloirist's  cabinet. 
2 


26  Doctor  Ox's  Experiment. 

It  is  possible  that  the  two  notables  waited  for 
the  doctor  at  least  an  hour ;  at  least  it  is  reason- 
able to  suppose  so,  as  the  bui'gomaster  —  what  had 
never  before  happened  in  his  life  —  betrayed  a 
certain  amount  of  impatience,  which  his  companion 
was  not  far  from  sharing. 

Doctor  Ox  came  in  at  last,  and  began  to  excuse 
himself  for  having  kept  them  waiting ;  but  he  had 
to  approve  a  plan  for  the  gasometer,  rectify  some 
of  the  machinery  —  But  everything  was  going 
on  well !  The  pipes  intended  for  the  oxygen  were 
already  laid.  In  a  few  months  the  town  would  be 
splendidly  lighted.  The  two  notables  might  even 
now  see  the  orifices  of  the  pipes  which  opened 
upon  the  laboratory. 

Then  the  doctor  begged  to  know  what  had  pro- 
cured for  him  the  honor  of  this  visit. 

"  To  see  you,  Doctor,  to  see  you,"  replied  Van 
Tricasse.  "  It  is  long  since  we  have  had  the  pleas- 
ure. We  go  abroad  but  little  in  our  good  town  of 
Quiquendone.  We  count  our  steps  and  measure 
our  walks.  We  are  happy  when  nothing  disturbs 
the  uniformity  of  our  habits." 

Niklausse  looked  at  his  friend.  His  friend  had 
never  said  so  much  at  once,  —  at  least,  without 
taking  time,  and  giving  long  intervals  to  his  sen- 
tences. It  seemed  to  him  that  Van  Tricasse  ex- 
pi'essed  himself  with  a  certain  volubility,  which 
was  by  no  means  characteristic  of  him.  Niklausse 
himself  experienced  a  kind  of  irresistible  propensity 
to  talk. 

As  for  Doctor  Ox,  he  looked  at  the  burgomaster 
with  sly  attention. 


Doctor  Ox's  Experiment.  27 

Van  Tricasse,  who  never  argued  until  he  had 
snugly  ensconced  himself  in  a  spacious  arm-chair, 
had  risen  to  his  feet.  I  know  not  what  nervous 
excitement,  quite  foreign  to  his  temperament,  had 
taken  possession  of  him.  He  did  not  gesticulate 
as  yet,  but  this  could  not  be  far  off.  As  for  the 
counsellor,  he  rubbed  his  legs,  and  breathed  with 
a  slow  and  long  respiration.  His  look  became 
animated  little  by  little,  and  he  had  "  decided  "  to 
support  at  all  hazards,  if  need  there  was,  his  trusty 
friend  the  biirgomaster. 

Van  Tricasse  got  up  and  took  several  steps ; 
then  he  came  back,  and  stood  facing  the  doctor. 

"  And  in  how  many  months,"  he  asked,  in  a 
somewhat  emphatic  tone,  "  do  you  say  that  your 
woi'k  will  be  finished  %  " 

"  In  three  or  four  months,  monsieur  the  burgo- 
master," replied  Doctor  Ox. 

"  Three  or  four  months,  —  it  's  a  very  long 
time  !  "   said  Van  Tricasse. 

"  Altogether  too  long  !  "  added  Niklausse,  who, 
not  being  able  to  keep  his  seat,  I'ose  also. 

"  This  lapse  of  time  is  necessary  to  complete 
our  operation,"  returned  Doctor  Ox.  "  The  work- 
men, whom  we  have  had  to  choose  in  Quiquen- 
done,  are  not  very  expeditious." 

"  How,  not  expeditious  !  "  cried  the  burgomas- 
ter, who  seemed  to  take  the  remark  as  personally 
offensive. 

"  No,  Monsieur  Van  Tricasse,"  rej^lied  Doctor 
Ox,  obstinately.  "  A  French  workman  would  do 
in  a  day  what  it  takes  ten  of  your  workmen  to  do ; 
you  know,  they  are  pure  Flemings." 


28  Doctor  Ox's  Ex2)eriment. 

"  Flemings  !  "  cried  the  counsellor,  whose  fingers 
closed  together.  "  In  what  sense,  sir,  do  you  use 
that  word  % " 

"  Why,  in  the  amiable  sense  in  which  everybody 
uses  it,"  replied  Doctor  Ox,  smiling. 

"  Ah,  but,  Doctor,"  said  the  biu'gomaster,  pacing 
up  and  down  the  room,  "  I  don't  like  these  insin- 
uations. The  workmen  of  Quiquendone  are  as 
efiicient  as  those  of  any  other  town  in  the  world, 
you  must  know,  and  we  shall  go  neither  to  Paris 
nor  London  for  our  models  !  As  for  your  project, 
I  beg  you  to  hasten  its  execution.  Our  streets 
have  been  unpaved  for  the  putting  down  of  your 
conduit-pipes,  and  it  is  a  hindrance  to  circulation. 
Our  commerce  will  begin  to  suffer,  and  I,  being 
the  responsible  authority,  do  not  propose  to  incur 
reproaches  which  will  be  but  too  just." 

Worth}^  bui-gomaster  !  He  spoke  of  commerce, 
of  circulation,  and  did  these  words,  to  which  he 
was  quite  unaccustomed,  scorch  his  lips  %  What 
was  passing  within  him  % 

"  Besides,"  added  Niklausse,  "  the  town  cannot 
be  depi'ived  of  light  much  longer." 

"But,"  urged  Doctor  Ox,  "a  town  which  has 
been  unlighted  for  eight  or  nine  hundred  years  —  " 

"  All  the  more  necessary  is  it,"  replied  the  bur- 
gomaster, emphasizing  his  words.  "  Other  times, 
other  manners !  Progress  advances,  and  we  do 
not  wish  to  remain  behind.  We  desire  our  streets 
to  be  lighted  within  a  month,  or  you  must  pay  a 
large  indemnity  for  each  day  of  delay  ;  and  what 
woiild  happen  if,  amid  the  darkness,  some  affray 
should  take  place?" 


Doctor  Ox's  Experiment.  29 

"  No  doubt,"  cried  Niklausse,  "  it  requires  but 
a  spark  to  kindle  a  Fleming  !  " 

"  Apropos  of  this,"  said  the  burgomaster,  inter- 
rupting his  friend,  "  commissary  Passauf,  om-  chief 
of  police,  reports  to  us  that  a  discussion  took  place 
in  your  drawing-room  last  evening,  Doctor  Ox. 
Was  he  wrong  in  declaring  that  it  was  a  political 
discussion  % " 

"  By  no  means,  monsieur  the  burgomaster,"  re- 
plied Doctor  Ox,  who  with  difficulty  repressed  a 
sigh  of  satisfaction. 

"  So  an  altei'cation  did  take  place  between  Do- 
minique Custos  and  Andre  Schut  %  " 

"Yes,  counsellor;  but  the  words  which  passed 
were  not  of  grave  import." 

"  Not  of  grave  import !  "  cried  the  burgomaster. 
"  Not  of  gi-ave  import,  when  one  man  tells  another 
that  he  does  not  measure  the  effect  of  his  words ! 
But  of  what  stuff  ai'e  you  made,  monsieur]  Do 
you  not  know  that  in  Quiquendone,  nothing  more 
is  needed  to  bring  about  extremely  disastrous  re- 
sults 1  But,  monsieur,  if  you,  or  any  one  else, 
permits  himself  to  speak  thus  to  me  — " 

"  Or  to  me,"  added  Niklausse. 

As  they  pronounced  these  words  with  a  men- 
acing air,  the  two  notables,  with  folded  arms  and 
bristling  air,  confronted  Doctor  Ox,  ready  to  do 
him  some  violence,  if  by  a  gesture,  or  even  the  ex- 
pression of  his  eye,  he  manifested  any  intent  of 
provocation. 

Bu.t  the  doctor  did  not  budge. 

"  At  all  events,  monsieur,"  resumed  the  burgo- 
master, "  I  propose  to  make  you  i-esponsible  for 


30  Doctor  Ox's  Experiment. 

what  passes  iu  your  house.  I  must  guarantee  the 
tranquillity  of  this  town,  and  I  do  not  wish  it  to 
be  disturbed.  The  events  of  last  evening  must 
not  be  renewed,  or  I  shall  do  my  duty,  sir  !  Do 
you  hear  %     Then  reply,  sir  !  " 

The  burgomaster,  as  he  spoke,  under  the  influ- 
ence of  extraordinary  excitement,  elevated  his 
voice  to  the  pitch  of  anger.  He  was  furious,  the 
worthy  Van  Tricasse,  and  might  certainly  be  heard 
outside.  At  last,  beside  himself,  and  seeing  that 
Doctor  Ox  did  not  reply  to  his  provocations, 
"  Come,  Niklausse,"  said  he. 

And,  shutting  the  door  with  a  violence  which 
shook  the  house,  the  burgomaster  drew  his  friend 
after  him. 

Little  by  little,  when  they  had  taken  twenty 
steps  on  their  road,  the  worthy  notables  grew 
more  calm.  Their  pace  slackened,  their  gait  be- 
came less  feverish.  The  flush  on  their  faces  faded 
away ;  from  being  red,  they  became  rosy.  A 
quarter  of  an  hour  after  quitting  the  gas-works. 
Van  Tricasse  said  softly  to  Niklausse,  "  An  ami- 
able man,  Doctor  Ox  !  I  shall  always  see  him 
with  the  greatest  pleasure  !  " 


Doctor  0£s  Experiment  31 


VI. 


IN   WHICH   PRANTZ   NIKLAUSSE   AND    SUZEL   VAN    TRI- 
CASSE    FORM    CERTAIN    PROJECTS    FOR   THE    FUTURE. 

■|UR  readers  know  that  the  burgomaster 
had  a  daughter,  Suzel.  But,  shrewd  as 
they  may  be,  they  cannot  have  divined 
that  the  counsellor  Niklausse  had  a  son, 
Frantz ;  and  had  they  divined  this,  nothing  could 
have  led  them  to  imagine  that  Frantz  was  the 
betrothed  lover  of  Suzel.  We  will  add  that  these 
young  people  were  made  for  each  other,  and  that 
they  loved  each  other,  as  folks  love  at  Quiquendone. 
It  must  not  be  thought  that  young  hearts  did 
not  beat  in  this  exceptional  place  ;  only  they  beat 
with  a  certain  deliberation.  There  were  mar- 
riages, as  in  every  other  town  in  the  world ;  but 
they  took  time  about  it.  Betrothed  couples,  be- 
fore engaging  in  these  terrible  bonds,  wished  to 
study  each  other  ;  and  these  studies  lasted  at  least 
ten  years,  as  at  college.  It  was  I'are  that  any  one 
was  "received"  before-this  lapse  of  time. 

Yes,  ten  years  !  The  courtships  last  ten  years  ! 
And  is  it,  after  all,  too  long,  when  the  being  bound 
for  life  is  in  consideration  %  One  studies  ten  years 
to  become  an  engineer  or  physician,  an  advocate 
or  attorney,  and  should  less  time  be  spent  in  ac- 
quiring the  knowledge  to  become  a  husband  1  It 
is  not  reasonable ;  and,  whether  it  is  a  matter  of 


32  Doctor  Ox's  Experiment. 

temperament  or  reason  with  them,  the  Quiquen- 
donians  seem  to  us  to  be  in  the  right  in  thvis  pro- 
longing their  studies.  When  marriages  in  other 
free  and  ardent  cities  are  seen  taking  place  within 
a  few  months,  we  must  shrug  our  shoulders,  and 
hasten  to  send  our  boys  to  the  schools  and  our 
daughters  to  the  pensions  of  Quiquendone. 

For  half  a  century  but  a  single  marriage  was 
known  to  have  taken  place  after  the  lapse  of  two 
years  of  courtship,  and  that  turned  out  badly  ! 

Frantz  Niklausse,  then,  loved  Suzel  Van  Tri- 
casse,  but  quietly,  as  a  man  loves  when  be  has  ten 
yeai'S  before  him  in  which  to  obtain  the  beloved 
object.  Once  eveiy  week,  at  an  hour  agreed 
upon,  Frantz  went  to  fetch  Suzel,  and  took  a  walk 
with  her  along  the  banks  of  the  Vaar.  He  took 
good  care  to  carry  his  fishing-tackle,  and  Suzel 
never  forgot  her  embroidery-canvas,  on  which  her 
pretty  hands  fashioned  flowers  the  most  impos- 
sible. 

Frantz  was  a  young  man  of  twenty-two,  whose 
cheeks  beti'ayed  a  soft,  peachy  down,  and  whose 
voice  had  scarcely  descended  from  one  octave  to 
another. 

As  for  Suzel,  she  was  blond  and  rosy.  She  was 
seventeen,  and  did  not  dislike  fishing.  A  singular 
occupation  this,  however,  which  forces  you  to 
struggle  craftily  with  a  barbel.  But  Frantz  loved 
it ;  the  pastime  was  congenial  to  his  tempera- 
ment. As  patient  as  possible,  content  to  follow 
with  his  rather  dreamy  eye  the  cork  which  trem- 
bled on  the  water's  edge,  he  knew  how  to  wait  \ 
and  when,   after  sitting  for  six  hours,  a  modest 


Doctor  Ox's  Experiment.  33 

barbel,  taking  pity  on  him,  consented  at  last  to  be 
caught,  he  was  happy,  —  but  he  knew  how  to  con- 
tain his  emotion. 

On  this  day  the  two  lovers  —  one  might  say, 
the  two  betrothed  —  were  seated  upon  the  verdant 
bank.  The  limpid  Vaar  murmured  a  few  feet 
below  them.  Suzel  quietly  drew  her  needle  across 
the  canvas.  Frantz  automatically  carried  his  line 
from  left  to  right,  then  permitted  it  to  descend 
the  current  from  right  to  left.  The  fish  made 
capricious  rings  in  the  water,  which  crossed  each 
other  around  the  cork,  while  the  hook  wandered 
in  the  lower  depths. 

From  time  to  time  Frantz  would  say,  without 
raising  his  eyes,  — 

"  I  think  I  have  a  bite,  Suzel." 

"Do  you  think  so,  Frantz ]"  replied  Suzel,  who, 
abandoning  her  work  for  an  instant,  followed  her 
lover's  line  with  earnest  eye. 

"  N-no,"  resumed  Frantz ;  "  I  thought  I  felt  a 
little  twitch  ;  I  was  mistaken." 

"  You  loill  have  a  bite,  Frantz,"  replied  Suzel,  in 
her  pure,  soft  voice.  "  But  do  not  forget  to  pull 
up  at  the  right  moment.  You  are  always  a  few 
seconds  too  late,  and  the  barbel  profits  by  it  to 
escape." 

"  Would  you  like  to  take  my  line,  Suzel  1 " 

"  Willingly,  Frantz." 

"Then  give  me  your  canvas.  AVe  shall  see 
whether  I  am  more  adroit  with  the  needle  than 
with  the  hook." 

And  the  young  girl  took  the  line  with  trembling 
hand,  while  her  swain  plied  the  needle  across  the 
2*  c 


34  Doctor  Ox's  Experiment. 

stitches  of  the  embroidery.  For  hours  together 
they  thus  exchanged  soft  words,  and  their  hearts 
paljjitated  when  the  cork  bobbed  on  the  water. 
Ah,  could  they  ever  forget  those  charming  hours, 
during  which,  seated  side  by  side,  they  hstened  to 
the  murmurs  of  the  river  1 

The  Sim  was  fast  approaching  the  western  ho- 
rizon, and  despite  the  combined  skill  of  Suzel  and 
Frantz,  there  had  not  been  a  bite.  The  barbels 
had  not  shown  themselves  complacent,  and  seemed 
to  scoff  at  the  two  simple  souls. 

"  We  shall  be  more  lucky  another  time,  Frantz," 
said  Suzel,  as  the  young  angler  put  up  his  still 
virgin  hook. 

"  Let  us  hope  so,"  replied  Frantz. 

Then,  walking  side  by  side,  they  turned  their 
steps  towards  the  house,  without  exchanging  a 
word,  as  mute  as  their  shadows  which  stretched 
out  before  them.  Suzel  became  very,  very  tall 
under  the  oblique  rays  of  the  setting  sun.  Frantz 
appeared  very,  very  thin,  like  the  long  pole  which 
he  held  in  his  hand. 

They  reached  the  burgomaster's  house.  Green 
tufts  of  grass  bordered  the  shining  pavement,  and 
no  one  would  have  thought  of  tearing  them  away, 
for  they  deadened  the  noise  made  by  the  passers- 

by. 

As  they  were  about  to  open  the  door,  Frantz 
thought  it  his  duty  to  say  to  Suzel,  — 

"You  know,  Svizel,  the  great  day  is  approach- 
ing." 

"  It  is,  indeed^  approaching,  Frantz,"  replied  the 
young  girl,  casting  down  her  long  lashes. 


Doctor  Ox's  Experiment.  35 

"Yes,"  said  Frantz,  "  in  five  or  six  years  —  " 

"Good  by,  Frantz,"  said  Suzel. 

"  Good  by,  Suzel,"  replied  Frantz. 

And,  after  the  door  had  been  closed,  the  young 
man  resumed  the  way  to  his  father's  house  with  a 
calm  and  equal  pace. 


36  Doctor  Ox's  Experiment. 


VII. 

IN  WHICH  THE  ANDANTES  BECOME  ALLEGROS,  AND  THE 
ALLEGROS  VIVACE8. 

^^jjjHE  agitation  caused  by  the  Schut  and 
""  Custos  affair  had  subsided.      The  affair 

led  to  no  serious  consequences.  It  might 
be  hoped  that  Quiquendone  would  re- 
turn to  its  habitual  apathy,  which  an  xmexpected 
event  had  for  a  moment  disturbed. 

Meanwhile,  the  laying  of  the  pipes  destined  to 
conduct  the  oxyhydric  gas  into  the  principal  edi- 
fices of  the  town  was  proceeding  rapidly.  The 
main  pipes  and  branches  little  by  little  crept  un- 
der the  pavements.  But  the  burners  were  still 
wanting ;  for,  as  it  required  delicate  skill  to  make 
them,  it  was  necessary  that  they  should  be  fab- 
ricated abroad.  Doctor  Ox  multiplied  himself; 
neither  he  nor  Ygene,  his  assistant,  lost  a  moment, 
but  they  in-ged  on  the  workmen,  completed  the 
delicate  mechanism  of  the  gasometer,  fed  day  and 
night  the  immense  piles  which  decomposed  the 
water  under  the  influence  of  a  powerful  electric 
current.  Yes,  the  doctor  was  already  making  his 
gas,  though  the  pipe-laying  was  not  yet  done;  a 
fact  which,  between  ourselves,  might  have  seemed 
a  little  singular.  But  before  long,  —  at  least  there 
was  reason  to  hope  so,  —  before  long.  Doctor  Ox 
would  inaugm-ate  the  splendors  of  his  iiivention  in 
the  theatre  of  the  town. 


Doctor  Ox's  Experiment.  37 

For  Quiquendone  possessed  a  theatre,  —  a  fine 
edifice,  in  truth,  the  interior  and  exterior  arrange- 
ment of  which  recalled  every  style  of  architectiu-e. 
It  was  at  once  Byzantine,  Roman,  Gothic,  Renais- 
sance, with  semicircular  doors,  pointed  windows, 
flaming  rose-windows,  fantastic  bell-turrets,  —  in  a 
word,  a  specimen  of  all  sorts,  half  Parthenon,  half 
Grand  Cafe  of  Paris.  Nor  was  this  astonishing, 
since  the  theatre,  having  been  commenced  under 
the  burgomaster  Ludwig  Van  Tricasse,  in  1175, 
was  only  finished  in  1837,  under  the  burgomaster 
Natalis  Van  Tricasse.  It  had  required  seven  hun- 
dred years  to  build  it,  and  it  had  been  conformed 
successively  to  the  architectural  method  of  each 
period.  No  matter ;  it  was  an  imposing  structui-e  ; 
the  Roman  pillars  and  Byzantine  arches  would 
not  clash  too  much  wuth  the  illumination  of  the 
oxyhydric  gas. 

Almost  everything  was  acted  at  the  theatre 
of  Quiquendone,  especially  opera,  lyric  and  com- 
ic. But  it  must  be  added  that  the  composers 
would  never  have  recognized  their  works,  so  en- 
tirely changed  were  the  "  movements "  of  the 
music. 

In  short,  as  nothing  was  done  in  a  hurry  at 
Quiquendone,  the  dramatic  pieces  had  to  be  har- 
monized with  the  temperament  of  the  Quiquen- 
donians.  Though  the  doors  of  the  theatre  were 
regularly  thrown  open  at  four  o'clock  and  closed 
again  at  ten,  it  had  never  been  known  that  more 
than  two  acts  were  played  during  the  six  inter- 
vening hours.  "Robert  le  Diable,"  "  Les  Hugue- 
nots," or  "Guillaume  Tell"  usually  took  up  three 


38  Doctor  Ox's  Experiment. 

evenings,  so  slow  was  the  execution  of  these  mas- 
terpieces. The  vivaces,  at  the  theatre  of  Quiquen- 
done,  lagged  like  real  adagios.  The  allegros  were 
drawn  out  ver}',  very  long.  The  quadruple  quavers 
were  scarcely  equal  to  the  ordinary  semibreves  of 
other  countries.  The  most  rapid  roulades,  per- 
formed according  to  Quiquendonian  taste,  had  the 
solemn  march  of  a  chant.  The  gayest  trills  were 
languishing  and  measured,  that  they  might  not 
shock  the  ears  of  the  dilettanti.  To  explain  it  by 
an  example,  the  rapid  air  of  Figaro,  on  his  entrance 
in  the  first  act  of  "  Le  Barbier  de  Seville,"  lasted 
fifty-eight  minutes,  —  when  the  actor  was  particu- 
larly enthusiastic. 

Artists  from  abroad,  as  might  be  supposed,  were 
forced  to  conform  themselves  to  Quiquendonian 
fashions;  biit  as  they  were  Avell  paid,  they  did  not 
complain,  and  willingly  obeyed  the  leader's  baton, 
which  never  beat  more  than  eight  measures  to  the 
minute  in  the  allegros. 

But  what  applause  greeted  these  artists,  who 
enchanted  without  ever  wearying  the  audiences  of 
Quiquendone  !  All  the  hands  clapped  one  after 
another  at  tolerably  long  intervals,  which  the 
papers  characterized  as  "frantic  applause";  and 
once  or  twice,  if  the  astonished  liall  did  not  fall 
in  beneath  the  "  bravos,"  it  was  because  mortar 
and  stone  had  not  been  spared  in  the  twelfth  cen- 
tury. 

Besides,  the  theatre  had  only  one  performance 
a  week,  in  order  not  to  excite  too  much  these 
enthiisiastic  Flemish  folk ;  and  this  enabled  the 
actors  to  study  their  parts  more  thoroughly,  and 


Doctor  Ox's  Experiment.  39 

the  spectators  to  digest  more  at  leisure  the  beau- 
ties of  the  dramatic  masterpieces. 

Such  had  long  been  the  drama  at  Quiquendone. 
Foi'eign  artists  were  in  the  habit  of  making  en- 
gagements with  the  director  of  the  town,  when 
they  desired  to  rest  from  the  fatigue  acquired  on 
other  scenes ;  and  it  seemed  as  if  nothing  could 
ever  change  these  inveterate  customs,  when,  a 
fortnight  after  the  Schut-Custos  affair,  an  un- 
looked-for incident  occurred  to  throw  the  popula- 
tion into  fresh  agitation. 

It  was  on  a  Saturday,  an  opera  day.  It  was 
not  yet  intended,  as  might  be  supposed,  to  inaugu- 
rate the  new  illumination.  No ;  the  pijjes  had 
reached  the  hall,  but,  for  reasons  indicated  above, 
the  burners  had  not  yet  been  placed,  and  the  wax- 
candles  still  spi'ead  their  soft  light  over  the  numer- 
ous si^ectators  who  filled  the  theatre.  The  doors 
had  been  opened  to  tlie  public  at  one  o'clock,  and 
by  three  the  hall  was  half  full.  A  queue  had  at 
one  time  been  formed,  which  extended  as  far  as 
the  end  of  the  Place  Saint  Ernuph,  in  front  of 
the  shop  of  Josse  Lietrinck  the  apothecaiy.  This 
eagerness  foreshadowed  an  vumsually  attractive 
performance. 

"  Are  you  going  to  the  theatre  this  evening  1 " 
the  counsellor  said  that  morning  to  the  burgo- 
master. 

"  I  shall  not  fail  to  do  so,"  returned  Van  Tri- 
casse,  "  and  I  shall  take  Madame  Van  Tricasse,  as 
well  as  our  daughter  Suzel  and  our  dear  Tatan^- 
mance,  who  dote  on  good  music." 

"  Mademoiselle  Suzel  is  going  % " 


40  Doctor  Ox's  Exjierime^it. 

"  Certainly,  Niklausse." 

"  Then  my  son  Frantz  will  be  one  of  the  first 
in  the  queue,"  said  Niklausse. 

"  An  ardent  youth,  Niklausse,"  replied  the  bur- 
gomaster, sententiously  ;  "  a  hot-headed  boy  !  We 
must  keep  our  eyes  on  that  young  man  !  " 

"  He  loves,  Van  Tricasse,  —  he  loves  your  charm- 
ing Suzel." 

"  Well,  Niklausse,  he  shall  marrj;-  her.  As  long 
as  we  have  agreed  on  this  marriage,  what  can  he 
ask  more "? " 

"  He  asks  for  nothing,  Van  Tricasse,  the  dear 
boy  !  But,  in  short,  —  and  I  have  nothing  more 
to  say,  —  he  will  not  be  the  last  to  get  his  ticket 
at  the  box-office." 

"  Ah,  vivacious  and  ardent  youth  !  "  replied  the 
burgomaster,  recalling  his  own  past.  "We  have 
also  been  thus,  my  worthy  counsellor  !  We  have 
loved,  —  we  too  !  We  have  gone  in  queue  in  our 
day  !  Till  to-night,  then,  till  to-night !  By  the 
by,  do  you  know,  this  Fiovaranti  is  a  great  artist. 
And  what  a  welcome  he  has  received  among  us  ! 
It  will  be  long  before  he  will  forget  the  applause 
of  Quiquendone  ! " 

The  tenor  Fiovaranti  was,  indeed,  going  to  sing ; 
Fiovaranti,  who,  by  his  talents  as  a  virtuoso,  his 
perfect  method,  his  sympathetic  voice,  provoked  a 
real  enthvisiasm  among  the  lovers  of  music  in  the 
town. 

For  three  weeks  Fiovaranti  had  achieved  a 
brilliant  success  in  "  Les  Huguenots."  The  first 
act,  interpreted  according  to  the  taste  of  the  Q\;i- 
quendoniaus,  had  occupied  an  entire  evening  of  the 


Doctor  Ox's  Experiment.  41 

first  week  of  the  mouth.  Another  evening  in  the 
second  week,  prolonged  by  infinite  andantes,  had 
elicited  for  the  celebrated  singer  a  real  ovation. 
His  success  had  been  still  more  marked  in  the 
third  act  of  Meyerbeer's  masterpiece.  But  now 
Fiovaranti  was  to  appear  in  the  fourth  act,  which 
was  to  be  performed  on  this  evening  before  an 
impatient  public.  Ah,  the  duet  between  Raoul 
and  Valentine,  that  hymn  of  love  by  two  voices, 
that  strain  in  which  were  multiplied  crescendos  and 
stringendos  and  7:)««  crescendos,  —  all  this,  sung 
slowly,  compendiously,  interminably  !  Ah,  what 
a  charm  in  this  ! 

At  four  o'clock  the  hall  was  full.  The  boxes, 
the  orchestra,  the  parquette,  were  overflowing.  In 
the  proscenium  were  to  be  seen  the  burgomaster 
Van  Tricasse,  Mademoiselle  Van  Ti-icasse,  Madame 
Van  Tricasse,  and  the  amiable  Tatanemance  in  a 
green  bonnet;  not  far  off  were  the  counsellor 
Niklausse  and  his  family,  not  forgetting  the  amor- 
ous Frantz.  The  families  of  Custos  the  doctor,  of 
Schut  the  advocate,  of  Honore  Syntax  the  chief 
judge,  of  Norbet  Sontman  the  insurance  director, 
of  the  banker  CoUaert,  gone  mad  on  German  mu- 
sic, and  himself  somewhat  of  an  amateur,  and  the 
teacher  Rupp,  and  the  master  of  the  academy, 
Jerome  Resh,  and  the  civil  commissary,  and  so 
many  other  notabilities  of  the  town  that  they 
could  not  be  enumerated  here  without  wearying 
the  reader's  patience,  were  visible  in  different  pax*ts 
of  the  hall. 

It  was  customary  for  the  Quiquendonians,  while 
awaiting  the   rise  of  the   curtain,  to    sit    silent, 


4:2  Doctor  Ox's  Exjieriment. 

some  reading  the  paper,  others  whispering  low  to 
each  other,  these  reaching  their  seats  slowly  and 
noiselessly,  those  casting  timid  looks  towards  the 
amiable  beauties  who  adorned  the  galleries. 

But  on  this  evening  a  looker-on  might  have 
observed  that,  even  before  the  curtain  rose,  an 
unusual  animation  was  apparent  among  the  audi- 
ence. People  were  seen  to  be  restless  who  were 
never  known  to  be  restless  before.  The  ladies' 
fans  fluttered  with  abnormal  rapidity.  A  more 
stimulating  atmosphere  seemed  to  have  invaded 
all  these  breasts.  Every  one  breathed  more  co- 
piously. The  gaze  of  some  became  unwontedly 
bright,  so  that  their  eyes  seemed  to  give  forth  a 
light  equal  to  that  of  the  candles,  which  them- 
selves certainly  threw  a  more  brilliant  light  over 
the  hall.  It  was  evident  that  people  saw  more 
clearly,  though  the  number  of  candles  had  not  been 
increased.  Ah,  if  Doctor  Ox's  exj^eriment  W'ere 
being  tried  !     But  it  was  not  being  tried,  as  yet. 

The  musicians  of  the  orchestra  at  last  took 
their  places.  The  first  violin  had  gone  to  the 
stand  to  give  a  modest  la  to  his  colleagues.  The 
stringed  instruments,  the  wind  instruments,  the 
drums  and  cymbals,  were  in  accord.  The  orches- 
tra leader  only  waited  the  sound  of  the  bell  to 
beat  the  first  measure. 

The  bell  sounds.  The  fourth  act  begins.  The 
allegro  appassionato  of  the  inter-act  is  played  as 
usual,  with  a  majestic  deliberation  which  would 
have  made  Meyerbeer  frantic,  and  all  the  majesty 
of  which  was  appreciated  by  the  Quiquendonian 
dilettanti. 


Doctor  Ox's  Experiment.  43 

But  soon  the  leader  perceived  that  he  was  no 
longer  master  of  his  musicians.  He  found  it  diffi- 
cult to  restrain  them,  though  usually  so  obedient 
and  calm.  The  wind  instruments  betrayed  a  ten- 
dency to  hasten  the  movements,  and  it  was  neces- 
sary to  hold  them  back  with  a  firm  hand,  for  they 
would  otherwise  outstrip  the  stringed  instruments  ; 
which,  from  a  musical  point  of  view,  would  have 
been  disastrous.  The  bassoon  himself,  the  son  of 
Josse  Lietrinck  the  apothecary,  a  well-bred  young- 
man,  seemed  to'  lose  his  self-control. 

Meanwhile  Valentine  has  begun  her  recitative, 
"  I  am  alone,"  etc.  ;  but  she  hurries  it. 

The  leader  and  all  his  musicians,  perhaps  un- 
consciously, follow  her  in  her  cantabile,  which 
should  be  beaten  delibei'atel}^,  like  an  "  eighteen  " 
as  it  is.  When  Raoul  appears  at  the  door  at  the 
bottom  of  the  stage,  between  the  moment  when 
Valentine  goes  to  him  and  that  when  she  conceals 
herself  in  the  chamber  at  the  side,  a  quarter  of  an 
hour  does  not  elapse  ;  while  formerly,  according 
to  the  traditions  of  the  Quiquendone  theatre,  this 
recitative  of  thirty-seven  measures  was  wont  to 
last  just  thii-ty-seven  minutes. 

Saint  Bris,  Nevers,  Cavannes,  and  the  Catholic 
nobles  have  appeared,  somewhat  prematurely,  per- 
haps, upon  the  scene.  The  composer  has  marked 
allegro  pomposo  on  the  score.  The  orchestra  and 
the  lords  proceed  allegro  indeed,  but  not  at  all 
pomposo,  and  at  the  chorus,  in  the  famous  scene 
of  the  "benediction  of  the  poniards,"  they  no 
longer  keep  to  the  enjoined  allegro.  Singers  and 
musicians   burst  out  furiously.     The  leader  does 


44  Doctor  Ox's  Experiment. 

not  even  attempt  to  restrain  them.  Nor  does 
the  public  protest ;  on  the  contrary,  the  people 
perceive  that  they  are  themselves  carried  away, 
that  they  are  involved  in  the  movement,  and  that 
the  movement  responds  to  the  impulses  of  their 
souls. 

"  Will  you,  with  me,  deliver  the  land, 
From  troubles  increasing,  an  impious  band  'i " 

They  promise,  they  swear.  Nevers  has  scarcely 
time  to  protest,  and  to  sing  that  "among  his  aU' 
cestors  were  many  soldiers,  but  never  an  assassin." 
He  is  arrested.  The  police  and  the  aldermen  rush 
forward  and  rapidly  swear  "to  strike  all  at  once." 
Saint  Bris  shouts  the  recitative  which  summons 
the  Catholics  to  vengeance.  The  three  monks,  with 
white  scarfs,  hasten  in  by  the  door  at  the  back  of 
Nevers's  room,  without  making  any  account  of  the 
stage  directions,  which  enjoin  on  them  to  advance 
slowly.  Already  all  the  artists  have  drawn  sword 
or  poniard,  which  the  three  monks  bless  in  a  trice. 
The  soprani,  tenors,  bassos,  attack  the  allegro  fur  i^ 
oso  with  cries  of  rage,  and  of  a  dramatic  "six-eight" 
they  make  the  "  six-eight  "  of  a  quadrille.  Theii 
they  rush  out,  bellowing,  — 

"  At  midnight, 
Noiselessly, 
God  wills  it, 

Yes, 
At  midnight." 

At  this  moment  the  audience  starts  to  its  feet. 
Everybody  is  agitated,  —  in  the  boxes,  the  par^ 
quette,  the  galleries.  It  seems  as  if  the  specta- 
tors are  about  to  rush  upon  the  stage,  the  burgo- 


Doctor  Ox's  Experiment.  45 

master  Van  Tricasse  at  their  head,  to  join  with 
the  conspirators  and  annihilate  the  Huguenots, 
whose  rehgious  opinions,  however,  they  share. 
They  applaud,  call  before  the  ciu-tain,  make  loud 
acclamations !  Tatanemance  grasps  her  bonnet 
with  feverish  hand.  The  candles  throw  out  a 
lurid  glow  of  light. 

Raonl,  instead  of  slowly  raising  the  curtain, 
tears  it  apart  with  a  superb  gesture  and  finds 
himself  confronting  Valentine. 

At  last !  It  is  the  grand  duet,  and  it  starts  off 
aJlegro  vivace.  Raoul  does  not  wait  for  Valentine's 
pleading,  and  Valentine  does  not  wait  for  Raoul's 
responses. 

The  fine  passage  beginning,  "  Danger  is  passing, 
time  is  flying,"  becomes  one  of  those  rapid  airs 
which  have  made  Offenbach  famous,  when  he  com- 
poses a  dance  for  conspirators.  The  andante  amo- 
roso, "  Thou  hast  said  it,  aye,  thou  lovest  me," 
becomes  a  real  vivace  furioso,  and  the  violoncello 
ceases  to  imitate  the  inflections  of  the  singer's 
voice,  as  indicated  in  the  composer's  score.  lu 
vain  Raoul  cries,  "  Speak  on,  and  prolong  the 
ineffable  slumber  of  my  soul."  Valentine  cannot 
"  prolong."  It  is  evident  that  an  unaccustomed 
fire  devours  her.  Her  sis  and  her  uts  above  the 
stave  explode  dreadfully.  He  struggles,  he  ges- 
ticulates, he  is  set  on  fire. 

The  alarum  is  heard ;  the  bell  resounds ;  but 
what  a  panting  bell  !  The  bell-ringer  has  evi- 
dently lost  his  self-control.  It  is  a  frightful  toc- 
sin, which  violently  struggles  against  the  fury  of 
the  orchestra. 


46  Doctor  Ox's  Ex2)e7-iment. 

Finally  the  air  which  ends  this  magnificent  act, 
beginning,  "  No  more  love,  no  more  intoxication, 
0  the  remorse  that  oppresses  me  !  "  which  the 
composer  marks  allegro  con  moto,  becomes  a  wild 
23restissimo.  You  would  say  an  express-train  was 
whirling  by.  The  alarum  resounds  again.  Valen- 
tine falls  fainting.  Raoul  precipitates  himself  from 
the  window. 

It  was  time.  The  orchestra,  really  intoxicated, 
could  not  have  gone  on.  The  leader's  baton  is  no 
longer  anything  but  a  broken  stick  on  the  stand. 
The  violin  strings  are  broken,  and  their  necks 
twisted.  In  his  fury  the  timbal  j^layer  has  burst 
his  timbals.  The  counter-bassist  has  roosted  on 
the  top  of  his  sonorous  edifice.  The  first  clario- 
net has  swallowed  the  reed  of  his  instrument, 
and  the  second  hautboy  is  chewing  his  reed  keys. 
The  groove  of  the  trombone  is  strained,  and  finally 
the  unhappy  cornist  cannot  withdraw  his  hand 
from  the  bell  of  his  horn,  into  which  it  has  too  far 
penetrated. 

And  the  audience  !  The  audience,  panting,  all 
in  a  heat,  gesticulates  and  howls.  All  the  faces 
are  as  red  as  if  a  fire  were  burning  within  their 
bodies.  They  crowd  each  other,  hustle  each  other 
to  get  out,  —  the  men  without  hats,  the  women 
without  mantles  !  They  elbow  each  other  in 
the  corridors,  crush  between  the  doors,  quarrel, 
fight !  There  are  no  longer  any  authorities,  any 
burgomaster.  All  are  equal  amid  this  infernal 
frenzy  ! 

Some  moments  after,  when  all  have  reached  the 
street,  each  one  resumes  his  habitual  tranquillity, 


Doctor  Ox's  Experiment.  47 

and  peaceably  enters  his  house,  with  a  confused 
remembrance  of  what  he  has  just  experienced. 

The  fourth  act  of  the  "  Huguenots,"  which  for- 
merly lasted  six  hours,  began,  on  this  evening,  at 
half  past  four,  and  ended  at  twelve  minutes  before 
five. 

It  had  only  occupied  eighteei^  rainute*  ! 


48  Doctor  Ox's  Ex2)eriment. 


VIII. 

IN     WHICH     THK     ANCIENT     AND     SOLEMN     GERMAN 
WALTZ    BECOMES    A    WHIRLWIND. 

'  UT  if  the  spectators,  on  leaving  the  thea- 
tre, resumed  their  customar}'  calm,  if  they 
quietly  regained  their  homes,  preserving 
only  a  sort  of  passing  stupefaction,  they 
had  none  the  less  undergone  a  remarkable  exalta- 
tion, and,  overcome,  broken,  as  if  they  had  commit- 
ted some  excess  of  dissipation,  they  fell  heavily 
upon  their  beds. 

The  next  day  each  Quiquendonian  had  a  kind 
of  I'ecollection  of  what  had  occurred  the  evening 
before.  One  missed  his  hat,  lost  in  the  hubbub ; 
another  a  coat-flap,  torn  in  the  brawl ;  one  her 
delicately  fashioned  shoe,  another  her  best  mantle. 
Memory  returned  to  these  worthy  people,  and 
with  it  a  certain  shame  for  their  unjustifiable  agi- 
tation. It  seemed  to  them  an  orgy  in  which  they 
were  the  unconscious  heroes  and  heroines.  They 
did  not  speak  of  it ;  they  did  not  wish  to  think 
of  it.  But  the  most  astounded  personage  in  the 
town  was  Van  Tricasse  the  bm'gomaster. 

The  next  morning,  on  waking,  he  could  not  find 
his  wig.  Lotche  looked  everywhere  for  it,  but  in 
vain.  The  wig  had  remained  on  the  field  of  battle. 
As  for  having  it  publicly  claimed  by  Jean  Mistrol, 
the  town-crier,  —  no,  it  would  not  do.     It  were 


Doctor  Ox's  Experiment.  49 

bettei'  to  lose  the  wig  than  to  advertise  himself 
thus,  as  he  had  the  honor  to  be  the  first  magis- 
trate of  Quiquendone. 

The  worthy  Van  Tricasse  was  reflecting  upon 
this,  extended  beneath  his  sheets,  with  bruised 
body,  heavy  head,  thick  tongue,  and  burning 
breast.  He  experienced  no  desire  to  get  up;  on 
the  contrary ;  and  his  brain  worked  more  during 
this  morning  than  it  had  probably  worked  before 
for  forty  years.  The  worthy  magistrate  recalled 
to  his  mind  all  the  incidents  of  the  incomprehen- 
sible performance.  He  connected  them  with  the 
events  which  had  taken  place  shortly  before  at 
Doctor  Ox's  reception.  He  tried  to  discover  the 
causes  of  the  singular  excitability  which,  on  two 
occasions,  had  betrayed  itself  in  the  best  citizens 
of  the  town. 

"  What  can  be  going  on  % "  he  asked  himself, 
"  What  giddy  spirit  has  taken  possession  of  my 
peaceable  town  of  Quiquendone  ]  Are  we  about 
to  go  mad,  and  must  we  make  the  town  one  vast 
asylum  %  For  yesterday  we  were  all  there,  nota- 
bles, counsellors,  judges,  advocates,  physicians, 
schoolmasters ;  and  all,  if  my  memory  serves  me, 
—  all  of  us  were  assailed  by  this  excess  of  furious 
folly  !  But  what  was  there  in  that  infernal  music  1 
It  is  inexplicable  !  Yet  I  certainly  ate  or  drank 
nothing  which  could  put  me  into  such  a  state. 
No ;  yesterday  I  had  for  dinner  a  slice  of  over- 
done veal,  several  spoonfuls  of  spinach  with  sugar, 
eggs,  and  a  little  beer  and  water,  —  that  could  n't 
get  into  my  head  !  No.  There  is  something  that 
I  cannot  explain,  and  as,  after  all,  1  am  responsible 
3  D 


50  Doctor  Ox's  Experiment. 

for  the  conduct  of  the  citizens,  I  will  have  an  in- 
vestigation." 

But  the  investigation,  though  decided  upon  by 
the  municipal  council,  produced  no  result.  If  the 
facts  were  clear,  the  causes  escaped  the  sagacity 
of  the  magistrates.  Besides,  tranquillity  had  been 
restored  in  the  public  mind,  and  with  tranquillity, 
forgetfulness  of  the  strange  scenes  of  the  theatre. 
The  newspapers  avoided  speaking  of  them,  and  the 
account  of  the  performance  which  appeared  in  the 
"  Quiqueudoue  Llemorial "  made  no  allusion  to 
this  intoxication  of  the  entire  audience. 

Meanwhile,  though  the  town  resumed  its  habit- 
ual phlegm,  and  became  apparently  Flemish  as 
before,  it  was  observable  that,  at  bottom,  the  char- 
acter and  temperament  of  the  people  changed 
little  by  little.  One  might  have  truly  said,  with 
Dominique  Gustos,  the  doctor,  that  "  nerves  were 
growing  in  them." 

Let  us  explain  ourselves.  This  undoubted 
change  only  took  place  under  certain  conditions. 
When  the  Quiquendonians  passed  through  the 
streets  of  the  town,  w^alked  in  the  squares  or  along 
the  Vaar,  they  were  always  the  cold  and  methodi- 
cal people  of  former  daj^s.  So,  too,  when  they  re- 
mained at  home,  some  working  with  their  hands 
and  others  with  their  heads,  —  these  doing  noth- 
ing, those  thinking  nothing,  —  their  private  life 
was  silent,  inert,  vegetating  as  before.  No  quar- 
rels, no  household  squabbles,  no  acceleration  in  the 
beating  of  the  heart,  no  excitement  of  the  brain. 
The  mean  of  their  pulsations  remained  as  it  was 
of  old,  from  fifty  to  fifty-two  per  minute. 


Doctor  Ox's  Ex2)eri'ment.  51 

But,  strange  and  inexplicable  phenomenon  that 
it  was,  -which  would  have  defied  the  sagacity  of 
the  most  ingenious  physiologists  of  the  day,  if 
the  inhabitants  of  Quiquendone  did  not  change  in 
their  home  life,  they  were  visibly  metamorphosed 
in  their  social  and  common  existence,  in  regard  to 
the  relations  of  individual  with  individual. 

If  they  met  together  in  some  public  edifice,  it 
did  not  "work  well,"  as  commissary  Passauf  ex- 
pressed it.  On  'change,  at  the  town  hall,  in  the 
amphitheatre  of  the  academy,  at  the  sessions  of 
the  council,  as  well  as  at  the  reunions  of  the  sa- 
vans,  a  strange  excitement  seized  the  assembled 
citizens.  Their  relations  with  each  other  became 
embarrassing  before  they  had  been  together  an 
hour.  In  two  hours  the  discussion  degenerated 
into  an  angry  dispute.  Heads  became  heated, 
and  personalities  were  used.  Even  at  church, 
during  the  sermon,  the  faithful  could  not  listen  to 
Van  Stabel,  the  minister,  in  patience,  and  he 
threw  himself  about  in  the  pulpit  and  lectured  his 
flock  with  far  more  than  his  usual  severity.  At 
last  this  state  of  things  brought  about  altercations 
more  grave,  alas !  than  that  between  Gustos  and 
Schut,  and  if  they  did  not  require  the  interfer- 
ence of  the  authorities,  it  was  because  the  antago- 
nists, after  returning  home,  found  there,  with  its 
calm,  forgetfulness  of  the  offences  off'ered  and  re- 
ceived. 

This  peculiarity  could  not  be  observed  by  these 
minds,  which  w^ere  absolutely  incapable  of  recog- 
nizing what  was  passing  in  them.  One  person 
only  in  the  town,  he  whose  office  the  council  had 


52  Doctor  Ox's  Experiment. 

thought  of  suppressing  for  thirty  years,  Michael 
Passauf,  had  remarked  that  this  excitement,  which 
was  absent  from  private  houses,  quickly  revealed 
itself  in  public  edifices  ;  and  he  asked  himself,  not 
without  a  certain  anxiety,  what  would  happen  if 
this  infection  shoidd  ever  develoj)  itself  in  the 
family  mansions,  and  if  the  epidemic  —  this  was 
the  word  he  used  —  should  extend  throiigh  the 
streets  of  the  town.  Then  there  would  be  no 
more  forgetfulness  of  insults,  no  more  tranquillity, 
no  intermission  in  the  delirium ;  but  a  permanent 
inflammation,  which  would  inevitably  bring  the 
Quiquendonians  into  collision  with,  each  other. 

"  What  would  happen  then  % "  Commissary  Pas- 
sauf asked  himself  in  terror.  "  How  could  these 
furious  savages  be  arrested'?  How  check  these 
goaded  temperaments  %  My  office  would  be  no 
longer  a  sinecure,  and  the  council  would  be  obliged 
to  double  my  salary,  —  unless  it  should  arrest  me 
myself,  for  disturbing  the  public  peace  !  " 

These  very  reasonable  fears  began  to  be  realized. 
The  infection  spread  from  'change,  the  theatre, 
the  church,  the  town  hall,  the  academy,  the  mar- 
ket, into  private  houses,  and  that  in  less  than  a 
fortnight  after  the  terrible  performance  of  the 
"  Huguenots." 

Its  first  symptoms  appeared  in  the  house  of 
Collaert,  the  banker. 

That  wealthy  personage  gave  a  ball,  or  at  least 
a  dancing-party,  to  the  notabilities  of  the  town. 
He  had  issued,  some  months  before,  a  loan  of 
thirty  thousand  francs,  three  quarters  of  which 
had  been  subscribed  ;  and  to  celebrate  this  finan- 


^^^if&^ 


'■wMmm. 


y\  k  .  ^ 


lid  .l,^-- 


',  m 


\  >V   .  fill! 


I  '    ' '  1 


■^    «-^  —  li.  .r^f  --—    >L     k^^  *t>   l.^X-   ^ F 


.V 


Doctor  Ox's  Experiment.  53 

cial  sviccess,  he  had  opened  his  drawing-rooms,  and 
given  a  party  to  his  fellow-citizens. 

Everybody  knows  that  Flemish  parties  are  pure 
and  tranquil,  the  principal  expense  of  which  is 
usually  in  beer  and  syrups.  Some  conversation 
on  the  weather,  the  appearance  of  the  crops,  the 
fine  condition  of  the  gardens,  the  care  of  flowers, 
and  especially  of  talips  ;  a  slow  and  measured 
dance,  from  time  to  time,  perhaps  a  minuet ; 
sometimes  a  waltz,  but  one  of  those  German 
waltzes  which  achieve  a  turn  and  a  half  per  minute, 
and  during  which  the  dancers  hold  each  other  as 
far  apart  as  their  arms  will  permit,  —  such  is  the 
usual  ftishion  of  the  balls  attended  by  the  aristo- 
cratic society  of  Quiquendone.  The  polka,  after 
being  put  to  fourth  time,  had  tried  to  become  ac- 
customed to  it ;  but  the  dancers  always  lagged 
behind  the  orchestra,  no  matter  how  slowly  the 
measure  was  beaten,  and  it  had  to  be  abandoned. 

These  peaceable  reunions,  in  which  the  youths 
and  maidens  enjoyed  an  honest  and  moderate 
pleasure,  had  never  been  attended  by  any  outburst 
of  ill-nature.  Why,  then,  on  this  evening  at  Col- 
laert  the  bankei-'s,  did  the  syrups  seem  to  be  trans- 
formed into  heady  wines,  into  boiling  champagne, 
into  incendiary  punches  1  Why,  towards  the  mid- 
dle of  the  evening,  did  a  sort  of  mysterious  intoxi- 
cation take  possession  of  the  guests'?  AVhy  did 
the  minuet  become  a  jigl  Why  did  the  orchestra 
hurry  with  its  harmonies  1  Why  did  the  candles, 
just  as  at  the  theatre,  burn  with  unwonted  reful- 
gence ]  What  electric  cuiTent  invaded  the  bank- 
er's drawing-rooms'?     How  happened  it  that  the 


54  Doctor  Ox's  Experiment. 

couples  came  together,  that  hands  pressed  each 
other  with  convulsive  squeezes,  that  the  "  cavaliers 
seuls  "  advanced  by  hazardous  steps,  during  this 
pastourelle,  once  so  grave,  so  solemn,  so  majestic, 
so  very  proper  1 

Alas  !  what  yEdipus  could  have  answered  these 
unsolvable  questions  1  Commissary  Passauf,  who 
was  present  at  the  party,  saw  the  storm  coming 
distinctly,  but  he  could  not  control  it  or  fly  from 
it,  and  he  felt  a  kind  of  intoxication  entering  his 
own  brain.  All  his  physical  and  passional  facul- 
ties increased  in  intensity.  He  was  seen,  several 
times,  to  throw  himself  upon  the  confectioner}-  and 
devour  the  dishes,  as  if  he  had  just  emerged  from 
a  long  dieting. 

The  animation  of  the  ball  was  increasing  all 
this  while.  A  long  murmur,  like  a  dull  buzzing, 
escaped  from  all  breasts.  They  danced,  —  really 
danced.  The  feet  were  agitated  by  increasing 
frenzy.  The  faces  became  as  purple  as  those  of 
Silenus.  The  eyes  shone  like  carbuncles.  The 
general  fermentation  rose  to  the  highest  pitch. 

And  when  the  orchestra  thundered  out  the 
waltz  in  "  Der  Freyschiitz,"  —  when  this  waltz,  so 
German  and  with  a  movement  so  slow,  was  at- 
tacked with  wild  arms  b}^  the  musicians,  —  ah  !  it 
was  no  longer  a  waltz,  but  an  insensate  whirlwind, 
a  giddy  rotation,  a  gyration  v.-orthy  of  being  led  by 
some  Mephistopheles,  beating  the  measure  with 
a  firebrand  !  Then  a  galop,  an  infernal  galop, 
which  lasted  an  hour  without  any  one  being  able 
to  stop  it,  whirled  off,  in  its  windings,  across  the 
halls,  the   drawing-rooms,   the   antechambers,   by 


Doctor  Ox's  Experiment.  55 

the  staircases,  from  the  cellar  to  the  garret  of  the 
opuleut  mausion,  the  young  men  and  young  girls, 
the  fathers  and  mothers,  people  of  every  age,  of 
every  weight,  of  both  sexes ;  Collaert,  the  fat 
banker,  and  Madame  Collaert,  and  the  counselloi^s, 
and  the  magistrates,  and  the  chief  justice,  and  Xi- 
klausse,  and  Madame  Van  Tricasse,  and  the  burgo- 
master Van  Tricasse,  and  the  commissary  Passauf 
himself,  Avho  never  could  recall  afterv/avds  who 
had  been  his  partner  on  that  terrible  evening. 

But  she  did  not  forget  !  And  ever  since  that 
day  she  has  seen  in  her  dreams  the  fiery  commis- 
sary, enfolding  her  in  a  suffocating  embrace  !  And 
<<  sj^e  "  —  -was" the  amiable  Tatanemance  ! 


56 


Doctor  Ox's  Experiment. 


IX. 

IN    WHICH    DOCTOR   OX   AND    YG:feNE,    HIS   ASSISTANT, 
SAY    A    FEW    WORDS. 

ELL,  Ygene  1 " 

"Well,    master,    all    is   ready.      The 
laying  of  the  pipes  is  finished." 

"  At   last  !      We    are   now   going  to 
operate  on  a  large  scale,  on  the  masses  !" 


Doctor  Ox's  Experimeyit.  57 


IX  WHICH  IT  WILL  BE  SEEX  THAT  THE  EPIDEMIC 
INVADES  THE  ENTIRE  TOWN,  AND  WHAT  EFFECT 
IT    PRODUCES. 

]URIXG  the  following  months  the  evil, 
in  place  of  subsiding,  became  more  ex- 
tended. From  private  houses  the  epi- 
demic expanded  into  the  streets.  The 
town  of  Quiquendone  was  no  longer  to  be  recog- 
nized. 

A  phenomenon  appeared  still  more  strange  than 
those  which  had  already  happened  ;  not  only  the 
animal  kingdom,  but  the  vegetable  kingdom  itself, 
became  subject  to  the  mysterious  influence. 

According  to  the  ordinary  course  of  things,  epi- 
demics are  special  in  their  operation.  Those 
which  attack  humanity  spare  the  animals,  and 
those  which  attack  the  animals  spare  the  vegetables. 
A  hoi'se  was  never  inflicted  with  small-pox,  nor  a 
man  with  the  cattle-plague,  nor  do  sheep  suffer 
from  the  potato-rot.  But  here  all  the  laws  of  na- 
ture seemed  to  be  overturned.  Not  only  were  the 
character,  temperament,  and  ideas  of  the  towns- 
folk changed,  but  the  domestic  animals  —  dogs  and 
cats,  horses  and  cows,  asses  and  goats  —  suff^ered 
from  this  epidemic  influeiioe,  as  if  their  habitual 
equilibrinm  had  been  changed.  The  plants  them- 
selves were  infected  by  a  similar  strange  metamor- 
phosis. 


58  Doctor  Ox^s  Experime'^t. 

In  the  gardens  and  vegetable  patches  and  or- 
chards very  curious  symptoms  manifested  them- 
selves. Climbing  plants  climbed  more  audacious- 
ly. Tufted  plants  became  more  tufted  than  ever. 
Shrubs  became  trees.  Cereals,  scarcely  sown, 
showed  their  little  green  heads,  and  gained,  in  the 
same  length  of  time,  as  much  in  inches  as  for- 
merly, under  the  most  favorable  circumstances, 
they  had  gained  in  lines.  Asparagus  attained  the 
height  of  several  feet  j  the  artichokes  swelled  to 
the  size  of  melons,  the  melons  to  the  size  of  pump- 
kins, the  pumpkins  to  the  size  of  gourds,  the 
gourds  to  the  size  of  the  belfry  bell,  which  meas- 
ured, in  truth,  nine  feet  in  diameter.  The  cab- 
bages were  bushes,  and  the  mushrooms  umbrellas. 

The  fruits  did  not  lag  behind  the  vegetables. 
It  required  two  persons  to  eat  a  strawberry,  and 
four  to  consume  a  pear.  The  grapes  also  attained 
the  enormous  projDortions  of  those  so  well  depicted 
by  Poussin  in  his  "  Return  of  the  Envoys  to  the 
Promised  Land." 

It  was  the  same  with  the  flowers  :  immense 
violets  spread  the  most  penetrating  perfumes 
throvigh  the  air ;  exaggerated  roses  shone  with 
the  brightest  colors ;  lilies  formed,  in  a  few  days, 
impenetrable  copses ;  geraniums,  daisies,  dahlias, 
camelias,  rhododendrons,  invaded  the  garden  walks, 
and  stifled  each  other.  And  the  tulips,  — those  dear 
liliaceous  plants  so  dear  to  the  Flemish  heart,  — 
what  emotion  they  must  have  caused  to  their 
zealous  cultivators !  The  worthy  Van  Bistrom 
came  near  falling  over  backwards,  one  day,  on  see- 
ing in  his  garden  an  enormous  "  Tulipa  gesneriana," 


Doctor  Ox's  Experiment.  59 

a  gigantic  monster,  whose  cup  afforded  space  to  a 
nest  for  a  whole  famil}^  of  robins  ! 

The  entire  town  flocked  to  see  this  floral  phe- 
nomenon, and  renamed  it  the  "  Tulipa  quiquen- 
donia." 

But,  alas !  if  these  plants,  these  fruits,  these 
flowers,  grew  visibly  to  the  naked  eye  ;  if  all  the 
vegetables  insisted  on  assuming  colossal  propor- 
tions ;  if  the  brilliancy  of  their  colors  and  perfume 
intoxicated  the  smell  and  the  sight,  they  quiclvly 
witliered.  The  air  which  they  absorbed  rapidly 
exhausted  them,  and  they  soon  died,  faded,  with- 
ered. 

Such  was  the  fate  of  the  famous  tulip,  which, 
after  several  days  of  splendoi',  became  emaciated 
and  fell  lifeless. 

It  was  soon  the  same  with  the  domestic  ani- 
mals, from  the  house-dog  to  the  stable-pig,  from 
the  canary  in  its  cage  to  the  turkey  of  the  rear- 
court.  It  must  be  said  that  in  ordinary  times 
these  animals  were  not  less  phlegmatic  than  their 
masters.  The  dogs  and  cats  vegetated  rather 
than  lived.  They  never  betrayed  a  wag  of  pleas- 
ure nor  a  snarl  of  wrath.  Their  tails  moved  no 
more  than  if  they  had  been  made  of  bronze.  Such 
a  thing  as  a  bite  or  scratch  from  any  of  them  had 
not  been  known  from  time  immemorial.  As  for 
mad  dogs,  they  were  looked  upon  as  imaginary 
beasts,  like  the  griffons  and  the  rest  in  the  menage- 
rie of  the  apocalypse. 

But  what  a  change  had  taken  place  in  a  few 
months,  the  smallest  incidents  of  which  we  are 
trying   to  reproduce  !     Dogs  and   cats   began    to 


60  Doctor  Ox's  Experivient. 

show  teeth  and  claws.  Several  executions  had 
taken  place  after  reiterated  offences.  A  liorse  was 
seen,  for  the  first  time,  to  take  his  bit  in  his  teeth 
and  rush  through  the  streets  of  Qr.iquendone  ;  an 
ox  was  observed,  to  precipitate  himself,  with  low- 
ered horns,  upon  one  of  his  herd  ;  an  ass  was 
seen  to  turn  himself  over,  with  his  legs  in  the 
air,  in  the  Place  Saint  Ernuph,  and  bi-ay  as  ass 
never  brayed  before ;  a  sheep,  actually  a  sheep, 
defended  valiantly  the  cutlets  within  him  from 
the  butcher's  knife. 

Van  Tricasse,  the  burgomaster,  was  forced  to 
make  police  regulations  concerning  the  domestic 
animals,  as,  seized  with  lunacy,  they  rendered  the 
streets  of  Quiquendone  unsafe. 

But,  alas  !  if  the  animals  were  mad,  the  men 
were  scarcely  less  so.  No  age  was  spared  by  the 
scourge.  Babies  soon  became  quite  insupportable, 
though  till  now  so  easy  to  bring  up  ;  and  for  the 
first  time  Honor^  Syntax,  the  judge,  was  obliged 
to  apply  the  rod  to  his  youthful  offspring. 

There  was  a  kind  of  insurrection  at  the  high 
school,  and  the  dictionaries  described  extraordi- 
nary and  deplorable  trajectories  in  the  classes. 
The  scholars  would  not  submit  to  be  shut  in,  and, 
besides,  the  infection  took  the  teachers  them- 
selves, who  overwhelmed  the  boys  and  girls  with 
extravagant  tasks  and  punishments. 

Another  strange  phenomenon  occurred.  All 
these  Quiquendoniaus,  so  sober  before,  whose 
chief  food  had  been  whipped  creams,  committed 
wild  excesses  in  their  eating  and  drinking.  Their 
usual  regimen  no  lonorer  sufficed.     Each  stomach 


Doctor  Ox's  Experiment.  61 

was  transformed  into  a  gulf,  and  it  became  neces- 
sary to  fill  this  gulf  by  the  most  energetic  means. 
The  consumption  of  the  town  trebled.  Instead 
of  two  repasts  they  had  six.  Many  cases  of  indi- 
gestion were  reported.  The  counsellor  Niklausse 
could  not  satisfy  his  hunger.  Van  Tricasse  found 
it  impossible  to  assuage  his  thirst,  and  remained  iu 
a  state  of  rabid  half-drunkenness. 

In  short,  the  most  alarming  symptoms  mani- 
fested themselves  and  increased  from  day  to  day. 
Drunken  people  staggered  in  the  streets,  and  these 
were  often  citizens  of  high  position. 

Dominique  Gustos,  the  physician,  had  plenty  to 
do  with  the  gastralgias,  inflammations,  and  nervous 
ills,  which  proved  to  what  a  strange  degree  the 
nerves  of  the  people  had  been  irritated. 

There  were  daily  quarrels  and  altercations  in 
the  once  deserted  but  now  crowded  streets  of  Qui- 
quendone ;  for  nobody  could  any  longer  stay  at 
home.  It  was  necessary  to  establish  a  new  police 
force  to  control  the  disturbers  of  the  public  peace. 
A  prison-cage  was  established  in  the  Town  Hall, 
and  speedily  became  full,  night  and  day,  of  refrac- 
tory oftendei'S.  Commissary  Passauf  was  in  de- 
spair. 

A  marriage  was  concluded  in  less  than  two 
months,  —  what  had  never  been  seen  before.  Yes, 
the  son  of  Rupp,  the  schoolmaster,  wedded  the 
daughter  of  Augustine  de  Rovere,  and  that  fifty- 
seven  days  only  after  he  had  petitioned  for  her 
hand  and  heai"t ! 

Other  marriages  were  decided  upon,  which,  in 
old  times,  would  have  remained  in  doubt  and  dis- 


62  Doctor  Ox's  Experiment. " 

cussion  for  years.  The  burgomaster  perceived 
that  his  own  daughter,  the  charming  Suzel,  was 
escaping  from  his  hands. 

As  for  dear  Tatanemance,  she  had  dared  to 
sound  commissary  Passauf  on  the  subject  of  a 
union,  which  seemed  to  her  to  combine  every  ele- 
ment of  happiness,  fortune,  honor,  youth  ! 

At  last,  —  to  reach  the  depths  of  abomination, 
—  a  duel  took  place  !  Yes,  a  duel  with  pistols, 
horse-pistols,  at  seventy-five  paces,  with  free  balls  ! 
And  between  whom  1  Our  readers  could  not  im- 
agine. 

Between  M.  Frantz  Niklausse,  the  gentle  angler, 
and  young  Simon  Collaert,  the  wealthy  banker's 
son. 

And  tlie  cause  of  this  duel  was  the  burgomas- 
ter's daughter,  for  whom  Simon  discovered  himself 
to  be  fired  with  passion,  and  whom  he  refused  to 
yield  to  the  claims  of  an  audacious  rival ! 


Doctor  Ox^s  Experiment.  63 


XI. 


IN    WHICH    THE    QUIQUEXDONIANS    ADOPT    A    HEROIC 

RESOLUTION. 

p^^^jE  have  seen  to  what  a  deplorable  condi- 
tion the  people  of  Quiquendone  were  re- 
duced. Their  heads  were  in  a  ferment. 
Thev  no  lonjifer  knew  or  recognized  them- 


selves. The  most  peaceable  citizens  had  become 
quarrelsome.  If  you  looked  askew  at  them,  they 
would  speedily  send  you  a  challenge.  Some  let 
their  mustaches  grow,  and  several  —  the  most 
belligerent  —  curled  them  up  at  the  ends. 

This  being  their  condition,  the  administration 
of  the  town  and  the  maintenance  of  order  in  the 
streets  became  difficult  tasks,  for  the  government 
had  not  been  organized  for  such  a  state  of  things. 
The  burgomaster,  —  that  worthy  Van  Tricasse 
whom  we  have  seen  so  placid,  so  dull,  so  incapable 
of  coming  to  any  decision,  —  the  burgomaster  be- 
came intractable.  His  house  resounded  with  the 
sharpness  of  his  voice.  He  made  twenty  decisions 
a  day,  scolding  his  officials,  and  himself  enforcing 
the  regulations  of  his  administration. 

Ah,  what  a  change  !  The  amiable  and  tranquil 
mansion  of  the  burgomaster,  that  good  Flemish 
home,  —  where  was  its  former  calm  ?  What  house- 
hold scenes  now  rapidly  followed  !  Madame  Van 
Tricasse    had    become    acrid,    whimsical,     harsh. 


64  Doctor  Ox's  Experimeivt. 

Her  husband  sometimes  succeeded  in  drowning 
her  voice  by  talking  louder  than  she,  but  could 
not  silence  her.  The  petulant  humor  of  this 
worth}'  dame  was  excited  by  everything.  Nothing 
went  right.  The  servants  offended  her  every  mo- 
ment. Tatanemance,  her  sister-in-law,  who  was 
not  less  irritable,  replied  sharply  to  her.  M.  Van 
Tricasse  naturally  sustained  Lotclie,  his  servant, 
as  is  the  case  in  all  good  hoxiseholds  ;  and  this 
permanently  exasperated  Madame,  who  constantly 
disputed,  discussed,  and  made  scenes  with  her 
husband. 

"  What  on  earth  is  the  matter  with  us  % "  cried 
the  unhappy  burgomaster.  "  What  is  this  fire 
that  is  devouring  us^  Are  we  possessed  with  the 
devil  %  Ah,  Madame  Van  Tricasse,  Madame  Van 
Tricasse,  yovi  will  end  by  making  me  die  before 
you,  and  thus  violate  all  the  traditions  of  the 
family  !  " 

The  reader  will  not  have  forgotten  the  strange 
custom  by  which  M.  Van  Tricasse  would  become 
a  widower  and  maiTy  again,  so  as  not  to  break  the 
chain  of  descent. 

Meanwhile  this  disposition  of  all  minds  produced 
other  curious  effects  worthy  of  note.  This  excite- 
ment, the  cause  of  which  has  so  far  escaped  us, 
brought  about  unexpected  physiological  changes. 
Talents,  hitherto  unrecognized,  betrayed  them- 
selves. Aptitudes  were  suddenly  revealed.  Ar- 
tists, before  commonplace,  displayed  new  ability. 
Men  appeared  in  politics  as  well  as  in  literature. 
Orators  proved  themselves  equal  to  the  most  ardu- 
ous debates,  and  on  every  question  inflamed  audi- 


Doctor   Ox's  Experiment.  65 

ences  which  were  quite  ready  to  be  inflamed. 
From  the  sessions  of  the  council,  this  movement 
spread  to  the  pubhc  pohtical  meetings,  and  a  ch;b 
was  formed  at  Quiquendone ;  whilst  twenty  news- 
papers, the  "  Quiquendone  Signal,"  the  "  Quiquen- 
done Impartial,"  the  '•  Quiquendone  Radical,"  and 
so  on,  written  with  gall,  attacked  the  gravest  social 
problems. 

But  to  what  end  1  you  will  ask.  Apropos  of 
everything,  and  of  nothing ;  apropos  of  the  Aude- 
narde  tower,  which  was  falling,  and  which  some 
wished  to  pull  down,  and  others  to  prop  up ; 
apropos  of  the  police  regulations  issued  by  the 
council,  which  some  obstinate  citizens  threatened 
to  resist ;  apropos  of  the  sweeping  of  the  gutters, 
repairing  the  sewers,  and  so  on.  Nor  did  the  en- 
raged orators  confine  themselves  to  the  interior 
administration  of  the  town.  Carried  on  by  the 
current,  they  went  further,  and  essayed  to  plunge 
their  fellow-citizens  into  the  hazards  of  war. 

Quiquendone  had  had  for  eight  or  nine  hundred 
years  a  casus  belli  of  the  best  quality ;  but  she 
had  preciously  laid  it  up,  like  a  relic,  and  there 
had  seemed  some  pi'obability  that  it  would  become 
effete,  and  no  longer  serviceable. 

This  was  what  had  given  rise  to  the  casus  belli. 

It  is  not  generally  known  that  Quiquendone,  in 
this  cosey  corner  of  Flanders,  lies  next  to  the  little 
town  of  Virgamen.  The  territories  of  the  two 
communities  are  contiguous. 

Well,  in  1185,  some  time  before  Count  Bau- 
douin's  departure  to  the  Crusades,  a  Virgamen  cow 
—  not  a  cow  belonging  to   a   citizen,  but  a   cow 

E 


66  Doctor  Ox's  Experiment. 

which  was  common  property,  let  it  be  observed  — 
audaciously  ventured  to  pasture  on  the  territory 
of  Quiquendone.  This  unhappy  animal  had  scarce- 
ly "  cropped  of  the  meadow  thrice  the  size  of  her 
tongue  "  ;  but  the  offence,  the  abuse,  the  crime,  — 
whatever  you  will,  —  was  committed  and  duly 
indicted ;  for  the  magistrates,  at  that  time,  had 
already  begun  to  know  how  to  write. 

"  We  will  take  revenge  at  the  proper  moment," 
said  simply  Natalis  Van  Tricasse,  the  thirty-second 
predecessor  of  the  burgomaster  of  this  story,  "  and 
the  Virgamenians  will  lose  nothing  by  waiting." 

The  Virgamenians  were  forewarned.  They 
waited,  thinking,  without  doubt,  that  the  remem- 
brance of  the  offence  would  fade  away  with  the 
lapse  of  time  ;  and  really,  for  several  centuries, 
they  lived  on  good  terms  with  their  neighbors  of 
Quiquendone. 

But  they  counted  without  their  hosts,  or  rather 
without  this  strange  epidemic,  which,  radically 
changing  the  character  of  the  Quiquendonians, 
aroused  in  their  hearts  the  shimbering  vengeance. 
It  was  at  the  club  of  the  Paie  Monstrelet  that  the 
truculent  orator  Schut,  abruptly  introducing  the 
subject  to  his  hearers,  inflamed  them  with  the  ex- 
pressions and  metaphors  used  on  such  occasions. 
He  recalled  the  oftence,  the  injury  which  had  been 
done  to  Quiquendone,  and  which  a  nation  "jeal- 
ous of  its  rights  "  could  not  admit  as  a  precedent ; 
he  showed  the  insult  to  be  still  existing,  the  wound 
still  bleeding  ;  he  spoke  of  certain  special  head- 
shakings  on  the  part  of  the  people  of  Virgamen, 
which  indicated  in  what  degree  of  contempt  they 


Doctor  Ox's  Experiment.  67 

regarded  the  people  of  Quiquendone ;  he  appealed 
to  his  fellow-citizens,  who,  unconsciously  perhaps, 
had  supported  this  mortal  insult  for  long  cen- 
turies ;  he  adjured  the  "  children  of  the  ancient 
town  "  to  have  no  other  purpose  than  to  obtain  a 
substantial  reparation.  And,  last,  he  made  an  ap- 
peal to  "  all  the  living  forces  of  the  nation  !  " 

With  what  enthusiasm  these  words,  so  new  to 
Quiquendonian  ears,  were  greeted,  may  be  sur- 
mised, but  cannot  be  told.  All  the  auditors  rose, 
and  with  extended  arms  demanded  war  with  loud 
cries.  Never  had  the  advocate  Schut  achieved 
such  a  success,  and  it  must  be  avowed  that  his 
triumphs  were  not  few. 

The  burgomaster,  the  counsellor,  all  the  nota- 
bilities present  at  this  memorable  meeting,  would 
have  vainly  attempted  to  resist  the  popular  out- 
burst. Besides,  they  had  no  desire  to  do  so,  and 
cried  as  loud,  if  not  louder  than  the  rest,  — 
"  To  the  frontier  !  To  the  frontier  !  " 
As  the  frontier  was  but  three  kilometers  from 
the  walls  of  Quiquendone,  it  is  certain  that  the 
Vii'gamenians  ran  a  real  danger,  for  they  might 
easily  be  invaded  without  having  had  time  to  look 
about  them. 

Meanwhile,  Josse  Lietrinck,  the  worthy  chemist, 
who  alone  had  preserved  his  senses  on  this  grave 
occasion,  tried  to  make  his  fellow-citizens  compre- 
hend that  guns,  cannon,  and  generals  were  equally 
wanting  to  their  design. 

They  replied  to  him,  not  without  more  or  less 
thumps,  that  these  generals,  cannon,  and  guns 
woixld  be  improvised  ;    that  the  right  and  love 


€8  Doctor  Ox^s  Exj^eriment. 

of  country  sufficed,  and  rendered  a  people  irre- 
sistible. 

Hereupon  the  burgomaster  himself  took  the 
floor,  and  in  a  sublime  ofi'-hand  speech  did  stern 
justice  to  those  pusillanimous  jDCople  who  disguise 
their  fear  under  a  veil  of  prudence,  and  he  tore  off 
this  veil  with  a  patriotic  hand. 

At  this  sally  it  seemed  as  if  the  hall  would  fall 
in  under  the  applause. 

The  vote  was  eagerly  demanded,  and  was  taken 
amid  acclamations. 

The  cries  of  "To  Virgamen  !  To  Virgamen  !  " 
redoubled.  , 

The  burgomaster  then  took  it  upon  himself  to 
put  the  armies  in  motion,  and  in  the  name  of  the 
town  he  promised  the  honors  of  a  triumph,  such  as 
was  given  in  the  times  of  the  Romans,  to  that  one 
of  its  generals  who  should  return  victorious. 

Meanwhile,  Josse  Lietrinck,  who  was  an  obsti- 
nate fellow,  and  did  not  regard  himself  as  beaten, 
though  he  really  had  been,  insisted  on  making  an- 
other observation.  He  wished  to  remark  that  the 
triumph  was  only  accorded,  at  Rome,  to  those  vic- 
torious generals  who  had  killed  five  thousand  of  the 
enemy. 

"Well,  well  !  "  cried  the  meeting,  deliriously. 

"  And,  as  the  population  of  the  town  of  Virga- 
naen  consists  of  but  three  thousand  five  hundred 
and  seventy-five  inhabitants,  it  would  be  difficult, 
unless  the  same  pei'son  was  killed  several  times  —  " 

But  they  did  not  let  the  luckless  logician  finish, 
and  he  was  thrown  out  the  door  all  black  and  blue 
with  angry  thumps. 


Doctor  Ox's  Experiment.  69 

"Citizens,"  said  Pulmacher  the  grocer,  -who  usu- 
ally sold  gToceries  at  retail,  "  -whatever  this  cow- 
ardly apothecary  may  have  said,  I  engage,  by  my- 
self, to  kill  five  thousand  Virgamenians,  if  you  will 
accept  my  services." 

"  Five  thousand  five  hundred  !  "  cried  a  yet 
more  resolute  patriot. 

"  Six  thousand  six  hundred  ! "  retorted  the 
grocer. 

"  Seven  thousand  !  "  cried  Jean  Ordideck,  the 
confectioner  of  the  Rue  Hemling,  who  was  on  the 
road  to  a  fortune  making  whipped  creams. 

"  Adjudged  !  "  exclaimed  the  burgomaster  Van 
Tricasse,  on  finding  that  no  one  else  rose  on  the 
bid. 

And  this  was  how  Jean  Ordideck  the  confec- 
tioner became  general-in-chief  of  the  forces  of 
Quiquendone. 


70  Doctor  Ox^s  Experiment. 


XII. 

IN  WHICH  YGi;NE,  THE  ASSISTANT,  GIVES  A  REASON- 
ABLE PIECE  OF  ADVICE,  WHICH  IS  EAGERLY  RE- 
JECTED   BY    DOCTOR    OX. 

ELL,  master,"  said  Ygeue,  next  day,  as  he 
poured  the  pails  of  sulphuric  acid  into 
the  spouts  of  his  enormous  piles. 

"  Well,"  resumed  Doctor  Ox,  "  was  I 
not  right  1  See  to  what  not  only  the  physical  de- 
velopments of  a  whole  nation,  but  its  morality,  its 
dignity,  its  talents,  its  political  sense,  have  come  ! 
It  is  only  a  question  of  molecules." 

"  No  doubt ;  but  —  " 

"  But  —  " 

"  Do  you  not  think  that  matters  have  gone  far 
enough,  and  that  these  poor  devils  should  not  be 
excited  beyond  measure  "?  " 

"No,  no!"  cried  the  doctor;  "no!  I  will  go 
on  to  the  end  !  " 

"  As  you  will,  master ;  the  experiment,  how- 
ever, seems  to  me  conclusive,  and  I  think  it  time 
to  —  " 

*'  To  —  " 

"  To  shut  the  tap." 

"  Indeed  !  "  cried  Doctor  Ox.  "  Take  care,  or 
I  '11  strangle  you  !  " 


Doctor  Ox's  Experiment.  71 


XIII. 

IN  WHICH  IT  IS  ONCE  MORE  PROVED  THAT  FROM  A 
HIGH  POSITIOX  ONE  OVERLOOKS  ALL  HUMAN  LIT- 
TLENESSES. 

lOU  say  1 "    asked    the  burgomaster  Van 
Tricasse  of  the  counsellor  Niklausse. 

"  I  say  that  this  war  is  necessary,"  re- 
plied Niklausse,  firmly,    "and  that  the 
time  has  come  to  avenge  this  insult." 

"Well,  I  repeat  to  you,"  replied  the  burgo- 
master, tartly,  "  that  if  the  people  of  Quiquendone 
do  not  profit  by  this  occasion  to  vindicate  their 
rights,  they  will  be  unworthy  of  their  name." 

"  And  as  for  me,  I  maintain  that  we  ought, 
without  delay,  to  collect  our  forces  and  lead  them 
to  the  front." 

"  Really,  monsieur,  really !  "  replied  Van  Tri- 
casse.    "  And  do  you  speak  thus  to  me  ?  " 

"To  yourself,  monsieur  the  burgomaster;  and 
you  shall  hear  the  truth,  unwelcome  as  it  may  be." 

"And  you  shall  hear  it  yourself,  counsellor," 
returned  Van  Tricasse  in  a  passion,  "for  it  will 
come  better  from  my  mouth  than  from  yours  ! 
Yes,  monsieur,  3'es,  all  delay  would  be  dishonor- 
ing. The  town  of  Quiquendone  has  waited  nine 
hundred  years  for  the  moment  to  take  its  revenge, 
and  whatever  you  may  say,  whether  it  pleases  you 
or  not,  we  shall  march  upon  the  enemy." 


72  Doctor  Ox's  Experimait. 

"Ah,  you  take  it  thus!"  replied  Niklausse, 
harshly.  "Very  well,  monsieur,  we  will  march 
without  you,  if  it  does  not  please  you  to  go." 

"A  burgomaster's  place  is  in  the  front  rank, 
monsieur !  " 

"  And  that  of  a  counsellor  also,  monsieur." 

"  You  insult  me  by  thwarting  all  my  wishes," 
cried  the  burgomaster,  whose  fists  had  a  tendency 
to  turn  into  projectiles. 

"And  you  equally  insult  me  by  doubting  my 
patriotism,"  cried  Niklausse,  who  also  made  a  bat- 
tery of  himself. 

"  I  tell  you,  monsieur,  that  the  army  of  Quiquen- 
done  shall  be  put  in  motion  within  two  days !  " 

"And  I  repeat  to  you,  monsieur,  that  forty- 
eight  hours  shall  not  pass  before  we  shall  have 
inarched  upon  the  enemy  ! " 

It  is  easy  to  see,  from  this  fragment  of  conver- 
sation, that  the  two  speakers  supported  exactly 
the  same  idea.  Both  wished  for  hostilities ;  but 
as  their  excitement  disposed  them  to  altercation, 
Niklausse  would  not  listen  to  Van  Tricasse,  nor 
Van  Ti'icasse  to  Niklausse.  Had  they  been  of 
contrary  opinions  on  this  grave  question,  had  the 
burgomaster  favored  war  and  the  counsellor  in- 
sisted on  peace,  the  quarrel  would  not  have  been 
more  violent.  These  two  old  friends  gazed  fiercely 
at  each  other.  By  the  quickened  beating  of  their 
hearts,  their  red  faces,  their  contracted  pupils,  the 
trembling  of  their  muscles,  their  harsh  voices,  it 
might  lie  conjectured  that  they  were  ready  to  come 
to  blows. 

But  the  striking  of  a  large  clock  happily  checked 


Doctor  Ox's  Experiment.  73 

the  adyersarie  5  at  the  moment  when  they  seemed 
on  the  point  of  assaulting  each  other. 

"  At  last  the  horn-  has  come  ! "  cried  the  bur- 
gomaster. 

"What  hour?"  asked  the  counsellor. 

"The  hour  to  go  to  the  belfry  tower." 

"  It  is  true,  and  whether  it  pleases  you  or  not, 
I  shall  go,  monsieur." 

"And  I  too." 

"  Let  us  go  ! " 

"  Let  us  go  ! " 

It  might  have  been  supposed  fi-om  these  last 
words  that  a  collision  had  occurred,  and  that  the 
adversaries  were  proceeding  to  a  duel ;  but  it  was 
not  so.  It  had  been  agreed  that  the  burgomaster 
and  the  counsellor,  as  the  two  principal  dignitai'ies 
of  the  town,  should  repair  to  the  Town  Hall,  and 
there  show  themselves  on  the  high  tower  which 
overlooked  Quiquendone  ;  that  they  should  examine 
the  surrounding  country,  so  as  to  make  the  best 
stratagetic  plan  for  the  advance  of  their  troops. 

Though  they  were  in  accord  on  this  subject, 
they  did  not  cease  to  quarrel  bitterly  as  they 
went.  Their  loud  voices  were  heard  resounding 
in  the  streets;  but  all  the  passers-by  were  now 
accustomed  to  this  ;  the  exasperation  of  the  digni- 
taries seemed  quite  natural,  and  no  one  took  no- 
tice of  it.  Under  the  circumstances,  a  calm  man 
would  have  been  regarded  as  a  monster. 

The  burgomaster  and  the  counsellor,  having 
reached  the  porch  of  the  belfry,  were  in  a  parox- 
ysm of  fury.  They  were  no  longer  red,  but  pale. 
This  terrible  discussion,  though  they  had  the  same 
4 


74  Doctor  Ox's  Experimeni. 

idea,  had  developed  some  spasms  i  i  their  viscera, 
and  every  one  knows  that  paleness  shows  that  an- 
ger has  reached  its  last  limits. 

At  the  foot  of  the  narrow  towf  r  staircase  there 
was  a  real  explosion.  Who  should  go  up  first  % 
Who  should  first  creep  up  the  winding  steps  % 
Truth  compels  us  to  say  that  there  was  a  tussle, 
and  that  the  counsellor  Niklausse,  forgetful  of  all 
that  he  owed  to  his  superior,  to  the  supreme  mag- 
istrate of  the  town,  pushed  Van  Tricasse  violently 
back,  and  dashed  up  the  staii'case  first. 

Both  ascended,  denouncing  and  raging  at  each 
other  at  every  step.  It  was  to  be  feared  that  a 
terrible  climax  would  occur  on  the  summit  of  the 
tower,  which  rose  three  hundred  and  fifty-seven 
feet  above  the  pavement. 

The  two  enemies  soon  got  out  of  breath,  how- 
ever, and  in  a  little  while,  at  tlie  eightieth  step, 
they  began  to  move  up  heavily,  breathing  loud 
iand  short. 

Then  —  was  it  because  of  their  being  out  of 
breath  %  —  their  wrath  subsided,  or  at  least  only 
betrayed  itself  by  a  succession  of  unseen^ly  epi- 
thets. They  became  silent,  and,  strange  to  say,  it 
seemed  as  if  their  excitement  diminished  >is  they 
ascended  higher  above  the  town.  A  sort  of  lull 
took  place  in  their  minds.  Tlieir  brains  >x3came 
cooler,  and  simmered  down  like  a  coffee-pot  when 
taken  away  from  the  fire.     Why  % 

We  cannot  answer  this  "why";  but  the  ^-nith 
is  that,  having  reached  a  certain  landing-st«,ge, 
two  hundred  and  sixty-six  feet  above  ground.  *^.he 
two  adversaries  sat  down  and,  really  more  ca^ni, 


Doctor  Ox's  Experiment.  75 

looked  at  each  other  without  any  anger  in  their 
faces. 

"  HoAV  high  it  is  ! "  said  the  burgomaster,  pass- 
ing his  handkerchief  over  his  rubicund  face. 

"  Veiy  high  I  "  returned  the  counsellor.  "  Do 
you  know  that  we  have  gone  fourteen  feet  higher 
than  the  Church  of  Saint  Michel  at  Hamburg  1 " 

"  I  know  it,"  replied  the  burgomaster,  in  a  tone 
of  vanity  very  pardonable  in  the  chief  magistrate 
of  Quiquendone. 

The  two  notabilities  soon  resumed  their  ascent, 
casting  curious  glances  through  the  loopholes 
pierced  in  the  tower  walls.  The  bui'gomaster  had 
taken  the  head  of  the  procession,  withoiit  any 
remark  on  the  part  of  the  counsellor.  It  even 
happened  that  at  about  the  three  hundred  and 
fourth  step,  Van  Tricasse  being  completely  tired 
out,  Xiklausse  pushed  him  up  gently  by  the  loins. 
The  burgomaster  offered  no  resistance  to  this,  and, 
when  he  reached  the  platform  of  the  tower,  said 
graciously,  — 

"  Thanks,  Xiklausse  ;  I  will  repay  you  for  this." 

A  little  while  before  it  had  been  two  wild  beasts, 
ready  to  tear  each  other  to  pieces,  who  had  pre- 
sented themselves  at  the  foot  of  the  tower  ;  it  was 
now  two  friends  who  reached  its  summit. 

The  weather  was  superb.  It  was  the  month  of 
May.  The  sun  had  absorbed  all  the  vapors.  What 
a  pure  and  limpid  atmosphere  !  The  most  minute 
objects  over  a  broad  space  might  be  discerned. 
The  walls  of  Virgamen,  glistening  in  their  white- 
ness, —  its  red,  pointed  roofs,  its  belfries  shining 
in  the  sunlight,  —  appeared  a  few  miles  off.     And 


76  Doctor  Ox's  Experiment. 

this  was  the  town  that  was  foredoomed  to  all  the 
horrors  of  fire  and  pillage ! 

The  luirgomaster  and  the  counsellor  sat  down 
beside  each  other  on  a  small  stone  bench,  like  two 
worthy  people  whose  souls  were  in  close  sympathy. 
As  they  recovei'ed  breath,  they  looked  around ; 
then,  after  a  brief  silence,  — 

"  How  fine  this  is  !  "  cried  the  burgomaster. 

"  Yes,  it  is  admirable  !  "  replied  the  counsellor. 
"  Does  it  not  seem  to  you,  my  good  Van  Tricasse, 
that  humanity  is  destined  to  dwell  rather  at  such 
heights,  tlian  to  crawl  about  on  the  surface  of  our 
globe  1 " 

"  I  agree  with  you,  honest  Niklausse,"  returned 
the  burgomaster,  —  "I  agree  with  you.  You  seize 
sentiment  better  when  you  get  clear  of  nature.  You 
breathe  it  in  every  sense !  It  is  at  such  heights 
that  philosophers  should  be  formed,  and  that  sages 
should  live,  above  the  miseries  of  this  world  ! " 

"  Shall  we  go  around  the  platform  1 "  asked  the 
counsellor. 

"  Let  us  go  around  the  platform,"  replied  the 
burgomastei'. 

And  the  two  friends,  arm  in  ami,  and  putting, 
as  formerly,  long  pauses  between  their  questions 
and  answers,  examined  every  jDoint  of  the  horizon. 

"  It  is  at  least  seventeen  years  since  I  have 
ascended  the  belfry  tower,"  said  Van  Tricasse. 

"  I  do  not  think  I  ever  came  up  before,"  replied 
Niklausse  ;  "  and  I  regret  it,  for  the  view  from 
this  height  is  sublime  !  Do  you  see,  my  friend, 
the  pretty  stream  of  the  Vaar,  as  it  winds  among 
the  trees  1 " 


Doctor  Ox's  Experiment.  77 

"  And,  beyond,  the  heights  of  Saint  Hermandad  ! 
How  gracefully  they  shut  in  the  horizon  !  Observe 
that  border  of  green  trees,  which  Nature  has  so 
picturesquely  arranged  !  Ah,  Nature,  Nature, 
Niklausse  !  Could  the  hand  of  man  ever  hope  to 
rival  her  ? " 

"  It  is  enchanting,  my  excellent  friend,"  replied 
the  counsellor.  '•'  See  the  flocks  and  herds  lying 
in  the  verdant  pastures,  —  the  oxen,  the  cows,  the 
sheep ! " 

"  And  the  laborers  going  to  the  fields  !  You 
would  say  they  wei-e  Arcadian  shepherds ;  they 
only  want  a  bagpipe  !  " 

"  And  over  all  this  fertile  country  the  beautiful 
blue  sky,  which  no  vapor  dims !  Ah,  Niklausse, 
one  might  become  a  poet  here  !  Why,  I  do  not 
understand  why  Saint  Simeon  Stylites  was  not  one 
of  the  greatest  poets  of  the  world." 

"  It  was  because,  perhaps,  his  column  was  not 
high  enough,"  replied  the  counsellor,  with  a  gentle 
smile. 

At  this  moment  the  chimes  of  Quiquendone 
rang  out.  The  clear  bells  played  one  of  their 
most  melodious  airs.  The  two  friends  listened  ia 
ecstasy. 

Then,  in  his  calm  voice.  Van  Tricasse  said,  — 

"  But  what,  friend  Niklausse,  did  we  come  i'> 
the  top  of  this  tower  to  do  % " 

"  In  fact,"  replied  the  counsellor,  "  we  have 
permitted  ourselves  to  be  can'ied  away  by  our 
reveries  —  " 

"  What  did  we  come  here  to  doT'  repeated  the 
burgomaster. 


78  Doctor  Ox's  Experiment. 

"  We  came,"  said  Niklausse,  "  to  breathe  this 
pure  air,  which  human  weaknesses  have  not  cor- 
rupted." 

"  Well,  shall  we  descend,  friend  Niklausse  T' 

"  Let  us  descend,  friend  Van  Tricasse." 

They  gave  a  parting  glance  at  the  splendid 
panorama  which  was  spread  before  their  eyes ; 
then  the  burgomaster  passed  down  first,  and 
began  to  descend  with  a  slow  and  measured  pace. 
The  counsellor  followed  a  few  steps  behind.  They 
reached  the  landing-stage  at  which  they  had 
stopped  on  ascending.  Already  their  cheeks  be- 
gan  to  redden.  They  tarried  a  moment,  then 
resumed  their  descent. 

In  a  few  moments  Van  Tricasse  begged  Ni' 
klausse  to  go  more  slowly,  as  he  felt  him  on  his 
heels,  and  it  "  worried  him." 

It  even  did  more  than  worry  him ;  for  twenty 
steps  lower  down  he  ordered  the  counsellor  to 
stop,  that  he  might  get  on  some  distance  ahead. 

The  counsellor  replied  that  he  did  not  wish  to 
remain  with  his  leg  in  the  air  to  await  the  good 
pleasure  of  the  burgomaster,  and  kept  on. 

Van  Tricasse  retorted  with  a  rude  expression. 

The  counsellor  responded  by  an  insulting  allu 
sion  to  the  burgomaster's  age,  destined  as  he  waS( 
by  his  family  traditions,  to  marry  a  second  time. 

The  burgomaster  went  down  twenty  steps  more, 
and  warned  Niklausse  that  this  should  not  pass  thus. 

Niklausse  replied  that,  at  all  events,  he  woidd 
pass  down  before  ;  and,  the  space  being  very  nar- 
row, the  two  dignitaries  came  into  collision,  and 
found  themselves  in  utter  darkness.     The  words 


Doctor  Ox's  Experiment.  79 

"  blockhead  "  and  "  booby "  were  the  mildest 
which  they  now  applied  to  each  othei*. 

"  We  shall  see,  stiipid  beast !  "  cried  the  burgo- 
master, —  "  we  shall  see  what  figure  you  will  make 
in  this  war,  and  in  what  rank  you  will  march  ! " 

"  In  the  rank  that  precedes  yours,  you  silly  old 
fool !  "  replied  Niklausse. 

Then  there  were  other  cries,  and  it  seemed  as 
if  bodies  were  rolling  over  each  other.  What  was 
going  on  %  Why  were  these  dispositions  so  quickly 
changed  *?  AVhy  were  the  gentle  sheep  of  the  plat- 
foi-m  metamorphosed  into  tigers  two  hundred  feet 
below  it  1 

However  this  might  be,  the  guardian  of  the 
tower,  hearing  the  noise,  opened  the  door,  just  at 
the  moment  when  the  two  adversaries,  bruised, 
and  with  protruding  eyes,  were  in  the  act  of  tear- 
ing each  other's  hair,  —  which  fortunately  was 
composed  of  wigs. 

"  You  shall  answer  to  me  for  this  !  "  cried  the 
burgomaster,  shaking  his  fist  under  his  adversary's 
nose. 

"  Whenever  you  please  ! "  growled  the  counsel- 
lor Niklausse,  attempting  to  respond  with  a  vigor- 
ous kick. 

The  guardian,  who  was  himself  in  a  passion,  — 
I  cannot  say  why,  —  thought  the  scene  a  very 
natural  one.  I  know  not  what  excitement  urged 
him  to  take  part  in  it,  but  he  controlled  himself, 
and  went  off  to  announce  throughout  the  neigh- 
borhood that  a  ho.stile  meeting  was  about  to  take 
place  between  the  burgomaster  Van  Tricasse  and 
the  counsellor  Niklausse. 


80  Doctor  Ox's  Experiment. 


XIV. 

IN  WHICH  MATTERS  GO  SO  FAR  THAT  THE  INHABI- 
TANTS OF  QUIQUENDONB,  THE  READER,  AND  EVEN 
THE  AUTHOR,  DEMAND  AN  IMMEDIATE  DENOUE- 
MENT. 


HE  last  incident   proves  to  what   a  pitch 


of  excitement  the  Quiquendonians  had 
been  wrought.  The  two  oldest  friends  in 
the  town,  and  the  most  gentle,  —  before 
the  advent  of  the  epidemic,  —  to  reach  this  degree 
of  violence  !  And  that,  only  a  few  minutes  after 
their  old  mutual  sympathy,  their  amiable  instincts, 
their  contemplative  habit,  had  been  restored  at  the 
summit  of  the  tower  ! 

On  learning  what  was  going  on,  Doctoi-  Ox  could 
not  contain  his  joy.  He  resisted  the  arguments 
which  Yg^ne,  who  saw  what  a  serious  turn  affairs 
were  taking,  addressed  to  him.  Besides,  both  of 
them  were  infected  by  the  general  fury.  They 
were  not  less  excited  than  the  rest  of  the  popula- 
tion, and  they  ended  by  quarrelling  as  violently  as 
the  burgomaster  and  the  counsellor. 

Besides,  one  question  eclipsed  all  others,  and 
the  intended  duels  were  postponed  to  the  issue 
of  the  Virgamenian  difficulty.  No  man  had  the 
right  to  shed  his  blood  uselessly,  when  it  belonged, 
to  the  last  drop,  to  the  country  in  danger. 

The  affair  was,  in  short,  a  grave  one,  and  there 
■gpas  no  withdrawing  from  it. 


Doctor  Ox'c  Experiment.  81 

The  burgomaster  Van  Tricasse,  despite  the 
■warhke  ardor  with  which  he  was  filled,  had  not 
thought  it  best  to  threw  himself  upon  the  enemy 
without  warning  him.  He  had  therefore,  through 
the  medium  of  the  rural  policeman,  Hottering, 
sent  to  demand  reparation  of  the  Virgamenians  for 
the  offence  committed,  in  1195,  on  the  Quiquen- 
douian  territory. 

The  authorities  of  Virgamen  could  not  at  first 
imagine  of  what  the  envoy  spoke,  and  the  latter, 
despite  his  official  character,  was  conducted  back 
to  the  frontier  very  cavalierly. 

Van  Tricasse  then  sent  one  of  the  aides-de-camp 
of  the  confectioner-general,  citizen  Hildevert  Shu- 
man,  a  manufacturer  of  barley-sugar,  a  very  firm 
and  energetic  man,  who  carried  to  the  authorities 
of  Virgamen  the  original  minute  of  the  indictment 
drawn  up  in  1195  by  order  of  the  burgomaster 
Natalis  Van  Tricasse. 

The  authorities  of  Virgamen  burst  out  laughing, 
and  served  the  aide-de-camp  in  the  same  manner 
as  the  rural  policeman. 

The  burgomaster  then  assembled  the  dignitaries 
of  the  town. 

A  letter,  remarkably  and  vigorously  drawn  up, 
was  written  as  an  ultimatum  ;  the  cause  of  quarrel 
was  plainly  stated,  and  a  delay  of  twenty-four 
hours  was  accorded  to  the  guilty  city  in  which  to 
repair  the  outrage  done  to  Quiquendone. 

The  letter  was  sent  off,  and  returned  a  few  hours 
afterwards,  torn  to  bits,  which  made  so  many  fresh 
insults.  The  Virgamenians  knew  of  old  the  for- 
bearance and  equanimity  of  the  Quiquendonians, 
4  *  F 


82  Doctor  Ox's  Expervment. 

and  made  sport  of  them  and  their  demand,  of  theh' 
casus  belli  and  their  ultimatum. 

There  was  only  one  thing  left  to  do,  —  to  have 
recourse  to  arms,  to  invoke  the  God  of  battles, 
and,  after  the  Prussian  fashion,  to  hurl  themselves 
upon  the  Virgamenians  before  the  latter  were  en- 
tirely ready. 

This  decision  was  made  by  the  council  in  sol- 
emn conclave,  in  which  the  cries,  objurgations,  and 
menacing  gestures  were  mingled  with  unexampled 
violence.  An  assembly  of  idiots,  a  congress  of 
madmen,  a  club  of  maniacs,  would  not  have  been 
more  tumultuous. 

As  soon  as  the  declaration  of  war  was  known, 
General  Jean  Ordideck  assembled  his  troops,  per- 
haps two  thousand  three  hundred  and  ninety- 
three  combatants  from  a  population  of  two  thou- 
sand three  hundred  and  ninety-three  souls.  The 
women,  the  children,  the  old  men,  were  joined  with 
the  able-bodied  males.  The  guns  of  the  town  had 
been  put  under  reqviisition.  Five  had  been  found, 
two  of  which  were  without  cocks,  and  these  had 
been  distributed  to  the  advance-guard.  The  artil- 
lery was  composed  of  the  old  culverin  of  the 
chateau,  taken  in  1339  at  the  attack  on  Quesnoy, 
one  of  the  first  occasions  of  the  use  of  cannon  in 
history,  and  which  had  not  been  fired  off  for  five 
centuries.  There  were  no  projectiles  with  which  to 
load  it,  happily  for  those  who  were  detailed  to 
take  it  in  charge  ;  but  such  as  it  was,  this  engine 
might  well  impose  on  the  enemy.  As  for  side- 
arms,  they  had  been  taken  from  the  museum  of 
antiquities,  —  flint    hatchets,    helmets,    Frankish 


Doctor  Ox's  Experiment.  83 

battle-axes,  framees,  guisards,  halberds,  verdiers, 
rapiers,  and  so  on  ;  and  also  in  those  domestic 
arsenals  commonly  known  as  "  cupboards "  and 
"kitchens."  But  courage,  the  right,  hatred  of  the 
foreigner,  the  yearning  for  vengeance,  were  to  take 
the  place  of  more  perfect  engines,  and  to  replace 
—  at  least  it  was  hoped  so  —  the  modern  mitrail- 
leuses and  cannon  charged  at  the  breech. 

The  troops  were  passed  in  review.  Not  a  citi- 
zen failed  at  the  roll-call.  General  Ordideck, 
scarcely  firm  on  his  horse,  which  was  a  vicious 
animal,  fell  off  three  times  in  fi"ont  of  the  army  ; 
but  he  got  up  again  without  injury,  and  this  was 
regarded  as  a  favorable  augury.  The  burgomaster, 
the  counsellor,  the  civil  commissary,  the  chief  jus- 
tice, the  school-teacher,  the  banker,  the  rector,  — 
in  short,  all  the  notabilities  of  the  town,  — marched 
at  the  head.  There  were  no  tears  shed,  either  by 
mothers,  sisters,  or  daughters.  They  m-ged  on 
their  husbands,  fathers,  brothers,  to  the  combat, 
and  even  followed  them  and  formed  the  rear-guard, 
under  the  orders  of  the  courageous  Madame  Van 
Tricasse. 

The  crier,  Jean  Mistrol,  blew  his  tiiimpet ;  the 
army  moved  off,  and  directed  itself,  with  ferocious 
cries,  towards  the  gate  of  Audenarde. 

At  the  moment  when  the  head  of  the  column 
was  about  to  pass  the  walls  of  the  town,  a  man 
threw  himself  before  it. 

"Stop  !  stop  !  Fools  that  you  are  !"  he  cried. 
"  Suspend  your  blows  !  Let  me  shut  the  tap ! 
You  are  not  changed  in  blood !     You  are  good 


84  Doctor  Oxs  Experiment. 

citizens,  quiet  and  peaceable  !  If  you  are  so  ex- 
cited, it  is  my  master,  Doctor  Ox's,  fault !  It  is 
an  experiment !  Under  the  pretext  of  lighting 
yovir  streets  with  oxyhj^dric  gas,  he  has  sat- 
urated —  " 

The  assistant  was  beside  himself;  but  he  could 
not  finish.  At  the  instant  that  the  doctor's  secret 
was  about  to  escape  his  lips.  Doctor  Ox  himself 
pounced  upon  the  unliappy  Ygene  in  an  indescrib- 
able rage,  and  shut  his  mouth  by  blows  with  his 
fist. 

It  was  a  battle.  The  burgomaster,  the  coun- 
sellor, the  dignitaries,  who  had  stopped  short  on 
Yg^ne's  sudden  appearance,  carried  away  in  turn 
by  their  exasperation,  rushed  upon  the  two  stran- 
gers, withoiit  waiting  to  hear  either  the  one  or  the 
othei\ 

Doctor  Ox  and  his  assistant,  beaten  and  lashed, 
were  about  to  be  dragged,  by  order  of  Van  Tri- 
casse,  to  the  round-house,  when  — 


Doctor  Ox's  Experiment.  85 


XV. 

IN    WHICH    THE    DENOUEMENT    TAKES    PLACE. 

HEN  a  formidable  explosion  resounded. 
All  the  atmosphere  which  enveloped  Qui- 
quendone  seemed  on  fire.  A  flame  of  an 
intensity  and  vividness  quite  unwonted 
shot  up  into  the  heavens  like  a  meteor.  Had  it 
been  night,  this  flame  would  have  been  visible  for 
ten  leagues  ai'ound. 

The  whole  army  of  Quiquendone  fell  to  the 
earth,  like  an  army  of  monks.  Happily  there  were 
no  victims ;  a  few  scratches  and  slight  hurts  were 
the  only  result.  The  confectioner,  who,  as  chance 
would  have  it,  had  not  follen  from  his  horse  this 
time,  had  his  plume  singed,  and  escaped  without 
any  further  injury. 

What  had  happened  % 

Something  very  simple,  as  was  soon  leai'ned  ;  the 
gas-works  had  just  blown  up.  During  the  absence 
of  the  doctor  and  his  assistant,  some  careless  mis- 
take had  no  doubt  been  made.  It  is  not  known  how 
or  why  a  communication  had  been  established  be- 
tween the  reservoir  which  contained  the  oxygen  and 
that  which  enclosed  the  hydrogen.  A  detonating 
mixture  had  resulted  from  the  union  of  these  two 
gases,  to  which  fire  had  accidentally  been  applied. 

This  changed  everything  ;  but  when  the  army 
got  upon  its  feet  again.  Doctor  Ox  and  his  assistant 
Ygene  had  disappeared. 


86  Doctor  Ox's  Experiment. 


XVI. 

IN  WHICH  THE  INTELLIGENT  READER  SEES  THAT  HE 
HAS  GUESSED  CORRECTLY,  DESPITE  ALL  THE  AU- 
THOR'S   PRECAUTIONS. 


^^jFTER  the  explosion,  Quiquendone  imme- 
^^V^^l  cliately  became  the  peaceable,  phlegmatic, 

^^j  and  Flemish  town  it  formerly  was. 

After  the  explosion,  which  indeed    did 

not  cause  a  very  lively  sensation,  each  one,  with- 
out knowing  why,  mechanically  took  his  way 
home,  the  burgomaster  leaning  on  the  counsellor's 
arm,  the  advocate  Schut  going  arm  in  arm  with 
Gustos  the  doctor,  Frantz  Niklausse  walking  with 
equal  familiarity  wnth  Simon  Collaert,  each  going 
tranquilly,  noiselessly,  without  even  being  con- 
scious of  what  had  happened,  and  having  already 
forgotten  Virgamen  and  their  revenge.  The  gen- 
eral returned  to  his  confections,  and  his  aide-de- 
camp to  the  bai-ley-sugar. 

Thus  everything  had  become  calm  again;  the 
old  existence  had  been  resumed  by  men  and 
beasts,  beasts  and  plants;  even  by  the  tower  of 
the  Audenarde  gate,  which  the  explosion  —  these 
explosions  are  sometimes  astonishing  —  had  set 
upright   again ! 

And  from  that  time  never  a  word  was  spoken 
moi-e  loudly  than  another,  never  a  discussion  took 
place  in  the  town  of  Quiquendone.     There  were 


Doctor  Ox's  Experiment.  87 

no  more  politics,  no  more  chibs,  no  more  trials, 
no  more  policemen  !  The  post  of  the  commissarj^ 
Passauf  became  once  more  a  sinecure,  and  if  his 
salary  was  not  reduced,  it  was  because  the  burgo- 
master and  the  counsellor  could  not  make  up  their 
minds  to  decide  upon  it. 

From  time  to  time,  indeed,  Passauf  flitted,  with- 
out any  one  suspecting  it,  throvigh  the  dreams  of 
the  inconsolable  Tatanemance. 

As  for  Frantz's  rival,  he  generously  abandoned 
the  charming  Suzel  to  her  lover,  who  hastened  to 
wed  her  five  or  six  years  after  these  events. 

And  as  for  Madame  Van  Tricasse,  she  died  ten 
years  later,  at  the  proper  time,  and  the  burgomas- 
ter married  Mademoiselle  Pelagie  Van  Tricasse,  his 
cousin,  under  excellent  conditions  —  for  the  happy 
mortal  who  should  succeed  him. 


8  Doctor  0£s  Experiment. 

XVII. 

IN   WHICH   DOCTOR   OX's   THEORY    IS   EXPLAINED. 

]HAT,  then,  had  this  mysterious  Doctor 
Ox  done  %  Tried  a  fantastic  experiment, 
—  nothing  more. 

After  having  laid  down  his  gas-pipes, 
he  had  saturated,  first  the  pubUc  buildings,  then 
the  private  dwellings,  finally  the  streets  of  Qui- 
quendone,  with  pure  oxygen,  without  letting  in 
the  least  atom  of  hydrogen. 

This  gas,  tasteless  and  odorless,  spread  in  gen- 
erous quantity  through  the  atmosphere,  causes, 
when  it  is  breathed,  serious  agitation  to  the  hu- 
man organism.  One  who  lives  in  an  air  saturated 
with  oxygen  grows  excited,  frantic,  burns  ! 

You  scarcely  return  to  the  ordinary  atmosphere, 
before  you  return  to  your  usual  state.  For  in- 
stance, the  counsellor  and  the  burgomaster  at  the 
top  of  the  belfry  were  themselves  again,  as  the 
oxygen  is  kept,  by  its  weight,  in  the  lower  strata 
of  the  air. 

But  one  who  lives  under  such  conditions,  breath- 
ing this  gas  which  transforms  the  body  physio- 
logically as  well  as  the  soul,  dies  speedily,  like  a 
madman. 

It  was  fortunate,  then,  for  the  Quiquendonians, 
that  a  providential  explosion  put  an  end  to  this 
dangerous  experiment,  and  abolished  Doctor  Ox's 
gas-works. 


Doctor  Ox's  Experiment.  89 

To  conclude  :  Are  virtue,  courage,  talent,  wit, 
imaginatiou,  —  are  all  these  qualities  or  faculties 
only  a  question  of  oxygen  % 

Such  is  Doctor  Ox's  theory ;  but  it  need  not  be 
admitted,  and  for  our  own  part,  we  reject  it  from 
every  point  of  view,  despite  the  fantastic  experi- 
ment of  which  the  woithy  old  town  of  Quiquendone 
was  the  theatre. 


MASTER  ZACHARIUS. 


A   WINTERS    NIGHT. 

ilHE  city  of  Geneva  is  situated  at  the 
western  extremity  of  the  lake  to  which 
it  gives  —  or  owes  —  its  name.  The 
Rhone,  which  crosses  the  city  on  emerg- 
ing from  the  lake,  divides  it  into  two  distinct 
quarters,  and  is  itself  divided,  in  the  centre  of  the 
city,  by  an  island  rising  between  its  two  banks. 
This  topographical  situation  is  often  to  be  ob- 
served in  the  great  centres  of  commerce  or  indus- 
try. Doubtless  the  earliest  inhabitants  were 
seduced  by  the  facilities  of  transportation  aftorded 
by  the  rapid  arms  of  the  rivers,  —  "those  roads 
which  advance  of  themselves,"  as  Pascal  says.  In 
the  case  of  the  Rhone,  they  are  roads  which  run. 
At  the  period  when  new  and  regular  buildings  had 
not  as  yet  been  erected  on  this  island,  anchored 
like  a  Dutch  galiot  in  the  midst  of  the  river, 
the  wondei'ful  mass  of  houses  huddled  the  one 
against  the  other  offered  to  the  eye  a  confusion 
full  of  charms.  The  small  extent  of  the  island 
had  forced  some  of  these  buildings  to  perch  upon 


92  Master  Zacharius. 

piles,  fastened  pell-mell  in  the  strong  currents  of 
the  Rhone.  These  big  timbers,  blackened  by  time 
and  worn  by  the  waters,  looked  like  the  claws  of 
an  immense  crab,  and  produced  a  fantastic  effect. 
Some  yellowed  nets,  real  spiders'  webs  stretched 
amid  these  venerable  substructures,  shivered  and 
trembled  in  the  shade  as  if  they  had  been  the 
foliage  of  these  old  oaks,  and  the  river,  engulfing 
itself  in  the  midst  of  this  forest  of  piles,  foamed 
with  melancholy  groans. 

One  of  the  habitations  on  the  island  struck  the 
observer  by  its  strange  appearance  of  extreme  age. 
It  was  the  residence  of  the  old  clockmaker.  Master 
Zacharius,  his  daughter  Gerande,  Aubert  Thun, 
his  apprentice,  and  his  old  servant,  Scholastique. 

What  an  original  personage  was  this  Zacharius  ! 
His  age  seemed  incalculable.  The  oldest  inhabi- 
tants of  Geneva  could  not  have  told  hov;^  long  his 
lean  and  picked  head  had  wavered  on  his  shoul- 
ders, nor  the  first  day  on  which  he  had  been  seeu 
walking  along  the  sti'eets  of  the  town,  his  long 
white  locks  floating  waywardly  in  the  wind.  This 
man  did  not  live.  He  oscillated  after  the  manner 
of  the  pendulums  of  his  clocks.  His  features, 
dry  and  cadaverous,  affected  sombre  tints.  Like 
the  pictures  of  Leonardo  di  Vinci,  he  had  put 
black  in  the  foreground. 

Gerande  occupied  the  best  room  in  the  old 
house ;  whence,  through  a  narrow  window,  her 
gaze  rested  sadly  upon  the  snowy  summits  of  the 
Jura.  But  the  bedroom  and  shop  of  the  old  man 
were  in  a  sort  of  cellar,  situated  on  a  level  with 
the  river,  and  the  flooring  of  which  rested  on  the 


Master  Zacharius.  93 

piles  themselves.  From  an  immemorial  period 
Master  Zacharius  had  not  been  known  to  emerge 
thence,  except  at  meal-time,  and  when  he  went 
forth  to  regulate  the  different  clocks  of  the  city. 
He  passed  the  rest  of  the  time  at  a  bench  coA'ered 
with  numerous  clockmaking  instruments,  which, 
for  the  most  part,  he  had  himself  invented. 

For  he  was  a  man  of  talent.  His  works  were 
very  popular  throughout  France  and  Germany. 
The  most  industrious  workmen  in  Geneva  freely 
admitted  his  superiority,  and  that  he  was  an  honor 
to  the  city.  They  pointed  him  out,  saying,  "  To 
him  is  due  the  glory  of  having  invented  the  es- 
capement !  " 

Indeed,  it  is  fi'om  this  invention,  which  the 
labors  of  Zacharius  will  later  make  clear,  that  is 
to  be  dated  the  birth  of  the  real  science  of  clock- 
making. 

Well,  after  having  woi'ked  long  and  marvel- 
lously, Zacharius  slowly  put  his  tools  in  their 
places,  covered  with  light  glass  the  delicate  pieces 
he  had  just  adjusted,  and  consigned  his  wheel,  in 
its  turn,  to  repose ;  then  he  raised  a  peephole, 
fashioned  in  the  flooring  of  his  hovel,  and  there, 
leaning  over  it  for  hours  together,  while  the  Rhone 
gurgled  and  rushed  beneath  hina,  he  intoxicated 
himself  with  its  misty  vapors. 

One  winter's  evening  old  Scholastique  was  serv- 
ing supper,  in  which,  according  to  ancient  usage, 
she  was  aided  by  the  young  apprentice.  Though 
carefull}'  prepared  dishes  were  offered  to  Master 
Zacharius  in  fine  blue-and-white  porcelain,  he  ate 
nothhig.     He  scarcely  replied  to  the  soft  question- 


94  Master  Zacharms. 

ings  of  Gerande,  who  was  visibly  affected  by  the 
gloomy  silence  of  her  father ;  and  the  garrulous- 
ness  of  Scholastique  herself  only  struck  his  ear  like 
the  grumblings  of  the  river,  to  which  he  no  longer 
paid  attention.  After  this  silent  repast  tlie  old 
clockmaker  left  the  table  without  embracing  his 
daughter,  nor  did  he,  as  usual,  bid  the  rest  "  good 
evening."  He  disappeared  through  the  narrow 
door  which  conducted  to  his  retreat,  and  the  stair- 
case fairly  creaked  under  his  heavy  tread. 

Gerande,  Aubert,  and  Scholastique  remained  si- 
lent for  some  moments.  The  weather  was  gloomy  ; 
the  clouds  dragged  themselves  heavily  along  the 
Alps,  and  threatened  to  dissolve  in  rain ;  the 
severe  temperatui-e  of  Switzerland  filled  the  soul 
with  melancholy,  while  the  midland  winds  prowled 
among  the  hills  and  whistled  drearily. 

"  Do  you  know,  my  dear  demoiselle,"  said  Scho- 
lastique at  last,  "  that  our  master  has  kept  wholly 
to  himself  for  some  days  1  Holy  Virgin  !  I  see  he 
has  not  been  hungry,  for  his  words  have  remained 
in  his  stomach,  and  the  Devil  himself  would  be 
adroit  to  force  one  out  of  him  ! " 

"  My  Either  has  some  secret  trouble  which  I 
cannot  even  guess,"  replied  Gerande,  a  sad  anxiety 
betraying  itself  in  her  countenance. 

"  Mademoiselle,  do  not  permit  so  much  sadness 
to  overshadow  your  heart.  You  know  the  singular 
htibits  of  Master  Zacharius.  Who  can  read  his  se- 
cret thoughts  in  his  face  1  Something  annoying 
has  no  doubt  happened  to  him,  but  he  will  have 
forgotten  it  by  to-morrow,  and  Vv'ill  repent  having 
made  his  dauu-hter  anxious." 


Master  Zacharius.  95 

It  was  Aubert  who  spoke  thus,  glancing  at  Ge- 
rande's  lovely  eyes.  Aubert  was  the  first  appren- 
tice whom  Master  Zacharius  had  ever  admitted  to 
the  intimacy  of  his  labors,  for  he  appreciated  his 
intelligence,  discretion,  and  goodness  of  heart ;  and 
this  young  man  liad  attached  himself  to  Gerande 
with  that  mysterious  faith  which  presides  over 
heroic  denouements. 

Gerande  was  eighteen  years  of  age.  The  oval 
of  her  face  recalled  tliat  of  the  artless  Madonnas, 
whom  veneration  still  displays  at  the  street  cor- 
ners of  the  antique  towns  of  Brittany.  Her  eyes 
betrayed  an  infinite  simplicity.  She  was  beloved 
as  the  most  delicate  realization  of  a  poet's  dream. 
Her  apparel  was  of  modest  colors,  and  the  white 
linen  which  was  folded  about  her  shoulders  had 
the  tint  and  perfume  peculiar  to  the  linen  of  the 
church.  She  led  a  mystical  existence  at  Geneva, 
which  had  not  as  yet  been  delivered  over  to  the 
dryness  of  Calvinism. 

Whilst,  night  and  morning,  she  read  her  Latin 
prayers  in  her  iron-clasped  missal,  Gerande  also 
discovered  a  hidden  sentiment  in  Aubert  Thun's 
heart,  and  comprehended  what  a  profoiuid  devo- 
tion the  young  workman  had  for  her.  Indeed,  the 
whole  world  in  his  eyes  was  condensed  in  this  old 
house  of  the  clockmakex-,  and  he  passed  aU  his 
time  near  the  young  girl,  when,  the  hours  of  work 
over,  he  left  her  father's  workshop. 

Old  Scholastique  saw  all  this,  but  said  nothing. 
Her  loquacity  exhausted  itself  in  preference  on 
the  evils  of  the  times,  and  the  little  worries  of  the 
household.     Nobody  tried  to  stop  its  course.     It 


96  Master  Zacharius. 

was  with  her  as  with  the  musical  snuff-boxes  which 
they  made  at  Geneva ;  once  wound  up,  you  must 
have  broken  her,  but  she  would  play  all  her  airs 
through. 

Finding  Gerande  absorbed  in  a  melancholy  si- 
lence, Scholastique  left  her  old  wooden  chair,  fixed  a 
taper  on  the  end  of  a  candlestick,  lit  it,  and  placed 
it  near  a  small  waxen  Virgin,  sheltered  in  her 
niche  of  stone.  It  was  the  family  custom  to  kneel 
before  this  protecting  Madonna  of  the  domestic 
hearth,  and  to  beg  her  kindly  watchfulness  during 
the  coming  night ;  but  on  this  evening,  Gerande 
remained  silent  in  her  seat. 

"  AVell,  well,  dear  demoiselle,"  said  the  aston- 
ished Scholastique,  "  supper  is  over,  and  it  is  time 
to  go  to  bed.  Why  do  you  tire  your  eyes  by  sit- 
ting up  late  ?  Ah,  Holy  Virgin  !  It 's  much  better 
to  sleep,  and  to  get  a  little  comfort  from  happy 
dreams  !  In  these  detestable  times  in  which  we 
live,  who  can  promise  herself  a  fortunate  day  % " 

"Ought  we  not  to  send  for  a  doctor  for  my 
father  %  "  asked  Gerande. 

"  A  doctor  !  "  cried  the  old  domestic.  "  Has 
Master  Zacharius  ever  listened  to  their  fancies  and 
pompous  sayings  %  He  miglit  accept  medicines 
for  the  watches,  but  not  for  the  body  !  " 

"  What  shall  we  do  1 "  murmiired  Gerande. 
"  Has  he  gone  to  w^ork,  or  has  he  retired  1 " 

"  Gerande,"  answered  Aubert,  softly,  "  some 
mental  trouble  annoys  your  father,  and  that  is 
all." 

"  Do  you  know  what  it  is,  Aubert  ? " 

"  Perhaps,  Gerande." 


Master  Zacharius.  97 

"  Tell  lis,  then,"  cried  Scholastique,  eagerly, 
prudently  extinguishing  her  taper. 

"  For  several  days,  Gerande,"  said  the  young 
apprentice,  "  something  absolutely  incomprehen- 
sible has  been  going  on.  All  the  watches  which 
your  father  has  made  and  sold  for  some  years 
have  suddenly  stopped.  Very  many  of  them  have 
been  brought  back  to  him.  He  has  carefully 
taken  them  to  pieces  ;  the  springs  were  in  good 
condition,  and  the  wheels  well  set.  He  has  put 
them  together  yet  more  carefully ;  but,  despite 
his  skill,  they  have  refused  to  go." 

"  The  devil 's  in  it !  "  cried  Scholastique. 

"  Why  say  you  so  % "  asked  Gerande.  "  It  seems 
very  natural  to  me.  All  things  are  limited  in  the 
world.  The  infinite  cannot  be  fashioned  by  the 
hands  of  men." 

"  It  is  none  the  less  true,"  returned  Aubert, 
"  that  there  is  in  this  something  very  mysterious 
and  extraordinary.  I  have  myself  been  helping 
Master  Zacharius  to  search  for  the  cause  of  this 
derangement  of  his  watches ;  but  I  have  not  been 
able  to  find  it,  and  more  than  once  I  have  despair- 
ingly let  my  tools  fall  from  my  hands." 

"  But  why  undertake  so  vain  a  task  1 "  resumed 
Scholastique.  "  Is  it  natural  that  a  little  copper  in- 
strument should  go  of  itself,  and  mai'k  the  hours  % 
We  ought  to  have  kept  to  the  sun-dial ! " 

"  You  will  not  talk  thus,  Scholastique,"  said 
Aubert,  "  when  you  learn  that  the  sun-dial  was 
invented  by  Cain." 

"  O  Lord  !  what  are  j-ou  telling  me  ? " 

"  Do  you  think,"  asked  Gerande,  simply,  "  that 
5  Q 


98  Master  Zacharms. 

we  might  pray  to  God  to  give  life  to  my  father's 
watches  1 " 

"  AVithout  doubt,"  replied  Aubert. 

"  Good  !  These  will  be  useless  prayers,"  grum- 
bled the  old  servant,  "  but  Heaven  will  pardon 
them  for  theii-  good  intent." 

The  taper  was  relighted.  Scholastique,  Gerande, 
and  Aubert  knelt  down  together  upon  the  flags  of 
the  room.  The  young  girl  prayed  for  her  mother's 
soul,  for  a  blessing  for  the  night,  for  travellers  and 
prisoners,  for  the  good  and  the  wicked,  and  more 
earnestly  than  all  for  the  unknown  misfortunes  of 
her  father. 

Then  the  three  devout  souls  rose  with  somewhat 
of  confidence  in  their  hearts,  for  they  had  laid 
their  sorrow  in  God's  bosom. 

Aubert  repaired  to  his  own  room  ;  Gerande  sat 
pensively  by  the  window,  whilst  the  last  lights 
were  disappearing  from  the  city  streets  ;  and 
Scholastique,  having  poured  a  little  water  on  the 
flickering  embers,  and  shut  the  two  enormous 
bolts  on  the  door,  threw  herself  upon  her  bed, 
where  she  was  soon  dreaming  that  she  was  dying 
of  fright. 

Meanwhile  the  terrors  of  this  winter's  night  had 
increased.  Sometimes,  with  the  whirlpools  of  the 
river,  the  wind  engulfed  itself  among  the  piles, 
and  the  whole  house  shivered  and  shook  ;  but  the 
young  girl,  absorbed  in  her  sadness,  thought  only 
of  her  father.  After  hearing  what  Aubert  told 
her,  the  malady  of  Master  Zacharius  took  fantastic 
proportions  in  her  mind  ;  and  it  seemed  to  her  as 
if  his  dear  existence,  become  purely  mechanical. 


Master  Zacharius.  99 

moved  now  with  pain  and  effort  on  its  exhausted 
pivots. 

Suddenly  the  shutters,  impelled  by  the  squall, 
struck  against  the  window  of  the  room.  Ge- 
rande  shuddered,  without  imderstanding  the  cause 
of  the  noise  which  thus  disturbed  her  revery. 
When  she  became  a  little  calmer  she  opened 
the  sash.  The  clouds  had  burst,  and  a  torrent- 
like  rain  pattered  on  the  surrounding  roofs.  The 
young  girl  leaned  out  of  the  window  to  draw 
to  the  shutter  shaken  by  the  wind,  but  she  feared 
to  do  so.  It  seemed  to  her  that  the  rain  and 
the  river,  confounding  their  tumultuous  waters, 
were  submerging  the  frail  house,  the  planks 
of  which  wei'e  creaking  in  every  direction.  She 
would  have  flown  from  her  chamber,  but  she  saw 
below  the  flickering  of  a  light  which  appeared 
to  come  from  Master  Zacharius's  retreat,  and  in 
one  of  those  momentary  calms,  during  which  the 
elements  keep  a  sudden  silence,  her  ear  caught 
plaintive  sounds.  She  tried  to  shut  her  window, 
but  could  not.  The  wind  violently  repelled  her, 
like  a  villain  who  was  introducing  himself  into  a 
dwelling. 

Gerande  thought  she  would  go  mad  from  terror. 
What  was  her  father  doing  *?  She  opened  the 
door,  and  it  escaped  from  her  hands,  and  shook 
loudly  under  the  attack  of  the  tempest.  Gerande 
then  found  herself  in  tlie  dark  supper-i'oom,  suc- 
ceeded in  gaining,  on  tiptoe,  the  staircase  which 
led  to  her  father's  shop,  and,  pale  and  fainting, 
glided  down. 

The  old  watchmaker  was  upright  in  the  middle 


100  Master  Zacharius. 

of  the  room,  which  was  filled  with  the  groans  of 
the  river.  His  bristling  hair  gave  him  a  sinister 
aspect.  He  was  talking  and  gesticulating,  with- 
out seeing  or  hearing  anything.  Gerande  aiTested 
her  steps  on  the  threshold. 

"  It  is  death  ! "  said  Master  Zacharius,  in  a 
thick  voice  ;  "  it  is  death  !  Why  should  I  live 
longer,  now  that  I  have  dispersed  my  existence 
over  the  earth  1  For  I,  Master  Zacharius,  am 
really  the  creator  of  all  the  watches  that  I  have 
fashioned  !  It  is  a  part  of  my  very  soul  that  I 
have  shut  up  in  each  of  these  boxes  of  iron,  silver, 
or  gold  !  Every  time  that  one  of  these  accursed 
watches  stops,  I  feel  my  heart  cease  beating,  for 
I  have  regulated  them  with  its  pulsations  !  " 

As  he  spoke  in  this  strange  way,  the  old  man 
cast  his  eyes  on  his  bench.  There  lay  all  the 
pieces  of  a  watch  that  he  had  carefully  taken 
apart.  He  took  up  a  sort  of  hollow  cylinder, 
called  a  barrel,  in  which  the  spring  is  enclosed, 
and  removed  the  steel  spiral,  which,  instead  of 
relaxing  itself,  according  to  the  laws  of  its  elas- 
ticity, remained  coiled  on  itself,  like  a  sleeping 
viper.  It  seemed  knotted,  like  those  impotent 
old  men  whose  blood  has  long  been  congealed. 
Master  Zacharius  vainly  essayed  to  uncoil  it  with 
his  thin  fingers,  the  outlines  of  which  were  ex- 
aggerated on  the  wall ;  but  he  tried  in  vain,  and 
soon,  with  a  terrible  cry  of  anguish  and  rage,  he 
threw  it  through  the  peephole  into  the  boiling 
Rhone. 

Gerande,  her  feet  riveted  to  the  floor,  stood 
breathless   and  motionless.      She  wished   to   ap- 


Master  Zacharius.  101 

proach  hei*  father,  but  could  not.  Giddy  hallu- 
cinations took  possession  of  her.  Suddenly  she 
heard,  in  the  shade,  a  voice  murmur  in  her 
ears,  — 

"  Gerande,  dear  Gerande  !  grief  still  keeps  you 
awake  !  Go  in  again,  I  beg  of  you ;  the  night  is 
cold." 

" Aubert !  "  whispered  the  young  girl.     "You  !" 

"  Ought  I  not  to  be  disturbed  bv  what  disturbs 
you  1 " 

These  soft  words  sent  the  blood  back  into  the 
}oung  girl's  heart.  She  leaned  on  Aubert's  arm, 
and  said  to  him,  — 

"  My  father  is  very  ill,  Aubert !  You  alone  can 
cure  him,  for  this  disorder  of  the  mind  would  not 
yield  to  his  daughter's  consolings.  His  mind  is 
attacked  by  a  very  natui-al  delusion,  and  in  working 
with  him,  repaii-ing  the  watches,  you  will  bring 
him  back  to  reason.  Aubert,"  she  continued,  "  it 
is  not  true,  is  it,  that  his  life  confounds  itself  with 
that  of  his  watches  ? " 

Aubert  did  not  reply. 

"  But  it  must  be  a  calling  reproved  of  God,  — 
that  of  my  father  ?  " 

"  I  know  not,''  returned  the  apprentice,  warm- 
ing the  cold  hands  of  the  girl  with  his  own.  "  But 
go  back  to  your  room,  my  poor  Gerande,  and  with 
sleep,  recover  hope  !  " 

Gerande  slowly  returned  to  her  chamber,  and 
remained  there  till  daylight  ;  slee]j  did  not  weigh 
down  her  eyelids.  Meanwhile,  Master  Zacharius, 
always  mute  and  motionless,  gazed  at  the  river  as 
it  rolled  turbulently  at  his  feet. 


102  Master  Zacharius. 

11. 

THE    PRIDE    OP    SCIENCE. 

jIHE  severity  of  the  Geneva  merchant  in 
business  matters  has  become  proverbial. 
He  is  rigidly  honorable,  and  excessively 
just.  What  must,  then,  have  been  the 
shame  of  Master  Zacharius,  when  he  saw  these 
watches,  which  he  had  so  carefully  constructed, 
returning  to  him  from  every  dii-ection  % 

It  was  certain  that  these  watches  had  suddenly 
stopped,  and  without  any  apparent  reason.  The 
wheels  were  in  a  good  condition  and  firmly  fixed, 
but  the  springs  had  lost  all  elasticity.  Vainly  did 
the  watchmaker  try  to  replace  them ;  the  wheels 
remained  motionless.  These  unaccountable  de- 
rangements were  greatly  to  the  old  man's  dis- 
credit. His  noble  inventions  had  many  times 
brought  upon  him  suspicions  of  sorcery,  which 
now  seemed  confirmed.  These  rumors  reached 
Gerande,  and  she  often  trembled  for  her  father, 
when  she  saw  malicious  glances  directed  towards 
him. 

Yet  on  the  morning  after  this  night  of  anguish. 
Master  Zacharius  seemed  to  resume  work  with 
some  confidence.  The  morning  sun  inspired  him 
with  some  courage.  Aubert  hastened  to  join  him 
in  the  shop,  and  received  an  affable  "  good  day." 
"  I  am  getting  on  better,"  said  the  old  man. 


Master  Zacharius.  103 

"  I  don't  know  what  strange  troubles  of  the  head 
attacked  me  yesterday,  but  the  sun  has  quite 
chased  them  away,  with  the  clouds  of  the  night.'" 

"  In  faith,  master,"  returned  Aubert,  "  I  don't 
like  the  night  for  either  of  us  ! '' 

"  And  thou  art  right,  Aubert.  If  you  ever  be- 
come a  superior  man,  you  will  understand  that 
day  is  as  necessary  to  you  as  food.  A  man  of 
merit  owes  himself  to  the  homage  of  the  rest  of 
mankind  !  " 

"Master,  it  seems  to  me  that  the  pride  of 
science  has  possessed  you." 

"  Pride,  Aubert !  Destroy  my  past,  annihihite 
my  present,  dissipate  my  future,  and  then  it  will 
be  permitted  to  me  to  live  in  obscurity  !  Poor 
boy,  who  comprehends  not  the  sublime  things  to 
which  my  art  is  wholly  devoted  !  Art  thou  not 
but  a  tool  in  my  hands  ]  " 

"  Yet,  Master  Zacharius,"  resumed  Aubert,  "  I 
have  more  than  once  merited  your  praise  for  the 
manner  in  which  I  adjiisted  the  most  delicate 
pieces  of  yoiu*  watches  and  clocks." 

"  No  doubt,  Aubert ;  thou  art  a  good  workman, 
such  as  I  love ;  but  when  thou  workest,  thou 
thinkest  thou  hast  in  thy  hands  b\it  copper,  silver, 
gold ;  thou  dost  not  perceive  these  metals,  which 
my  genius  animates,  palpitating  like  living  flesh  ! 
Thus  thou  wouldst  not  die,  with  the  death  of  thy 
works !  " 

Master  Zacharius  remained  silent  after  these 
words  ;  but  Aubert  essayed  to  keep  up  the  con- 
versation. 

"  Indeed,  master,"  said  he,  "  I  love  to  see  you 


104  Master  Zacharius. 

•work  so  unceasingly  !  You  will  be  ready  for  the 
festival  of  our  corporation,  for  I  see  that  the  work 
on  this  crystal  watch  is  going  forward  famously." 

"  No  doubt,  Aubert,"  cried  the  old  watchmakei-, 
"  and  it  will  be  no  slight  honor  for  me  to  have 
been  able  to  cut  and  shape  the  crystal  to  the 
durability  of  a  diamond  !  Ah,  Louis  Berghem  did 
well  to  perfect  the  art  of  diamond-cutting,  which 
has  enabled  me  to  polish  and  pierce  the  hardest 
stones  ! " 

Master  Zacharius  was  holding  several  small 
watch  pieces  of  cut  crystal,  and  of  exquisite  work- 
manship. The  wheels,  pivots,  and  box  of  the 
watch  were  of  the  same  material,  and  he  had 
employed  remarkable  skill  in  this  very  difficult 
task. 

"  Would  it  not  be  fine,"  said  he,  his  face  flush- 
ing, "  to  see  this  watch  palpitating  beneath  its 
transparent  envelope,  and  to  be  able  to  count  the 
beating's  of  its  heart  1 " 

"  I  will  wager,  sir,"  replied  the  young  appren- 
tice, "  that  it  will  not  vary  a  second  in  a  year." 

"  And  you  would  wager  on  a  certainty  !  Have 
I  not  imparted  to  it  all  that  is  purest  of  myself  1 
And  does  my  heart  itself  vi^ry  1 " 

Aubert  did  not  dare  to  lift  his  eyes  to  his  mas- 
ter's face. 

"  Tell  me  frankly,"  said  the  old  man,  sadly. 
"  Have  you  never  taken  me  for  a  fool  ]  Do  you 
not  think  me  sometimes  subject  to  dangerous 
folly  ]  Yes  ;  is  it  not  %  In  my  daughter's  eyes 
and  yours,  I  have  often  read  my  condemnation. 
Oh  !  "  he  cried,  as  if  in  pain,   "to  be  not  under- 


Master  Zacharius.  105 

stood  by  those  whom  one  most  loves  in  the  world  ! 
But  I  will  prove  victoriously  to  thee,  Aubert,  that 
I  am  right  !  Do  not  bow  thy  head,  for  thou  wilt 
be  stupefied.  The  day  on  which  thou  under- 
standest  how  to  listen  to  and  comprehend  me, 
thou  wilt  see  that  I  have  discovered  the  secrets 
of  existence,  the  secrets  of  the  mysterious  union  of 
the  soul  with  the  body  !  " 

As  he  spoke  thus,  Master  Zacharius  appeared 
superb  in  his  vanity.  His  eyes  glittered  with  a 
supernatural  fire,  and  his  pride  illumined  every 
feature.  And  truly,  if  ever  vanity  was  excusable, 
it  was  that  of  Master  Zacharius  ! 

The  watchmaking  art,  indeed,  down  to  his  time, 
had  remained  almost  in  its  infancy.  From  the 
day  when  Plato,  four  centuries  before  the  Chris- 
tian era,  invented  the  night  watch,  a  sort  of 
clepsydra  which  indicated  the  hours  of  the  night 
by  the  sound  and  playing  of  a  flute,  the  science 
had  continued  nearly  stationary.  The  masters 
paid  more  attention  to  the  arts  than  to  mechanics, 
and  it  was  the  period  of  beautiful  watches  of  iron, 
copper,  wood,  silver,  which  were  richly  engraved, 
like  one  of  Cellini's  ewers.  They  made  a  master- 
piece of  chasing,  which  measured  time  very  imper- 
fectly, but  was  still  a  masterpiece.  When  the 
artist's  imagination  was  not  directed  to  the  perfec- 
tion of  modelling,  it  sought  to  create  clocks  with 
moving  figures  and  melodious  sounds,  which  were 
put  in  operation  in  a  very  diverting  fashion.  Be- 
sides, who  troubled  himself,  in  those  days,  with 
regulating  the  advance  of  the  hours  %  The  delays 
of  the  law  were  not  as  yet  invented  ;  the  physical 
5* 


106  Master  Zacharius. 

and  astronomical  sciences  had  not  as  yet  estab- 
lished their  calculations  on  scrupulously  exact 
measurements  ;  there  were  neither  establishments 
which  were  shut  at  a  given  hour,  nor  trains  which 
departed  at  a  j^recise  moment.  In  the  evening 
the  curfew  bell  sounded ;  and  at  night  the  hours 
were  cried  amid  the  universal  silence.  Certainly 
people  did  not  live  so  long,  if  existence  is  measured 
by  the  amount  of  business  done ;  but  they  lived 
better.  The  mind  was  enriched  with  the  noble 
sentiments  born  of  the  contemplation  of  master- 
pieces. They  built  a  church  in  two  centuries,  a 
painter  painted  but  few  pictures  in  the  course  of 
his  life,  a  poet  only  composed  one  great  Avork ; 
but  these  wei'e  so  many  masterpieces. 

When  the  exact  sciences  began  at  last  to  make 
some  progress,  watch  and  clock  making  followed 
in  their  path,  though  it  was  always  arrested  by  an 
insurmountable  difficulty,  —  the  regular  and  con- 
tinuous measurement  of  time. 

It  was  in  the  midst  of  this  stagnation  that  Mas- 
ter Zacharius  invented  the  escapement,  which  en- 
abled him  to  obtain  a  mathematical  regularity  by 
submitting  the  movement  of  the  pendulum  to  a 
constant  force.  This  invention  had  turned  the 
old  man's  head.  Pride,  swelling  in  his  heart,  like 
mercury  in  the  thermometer,  had  attained  the 
height  of  transcendent  folly.  By  analogy  he  had 
allowed  himself  to  be  drawn  to  materialistic  con- 
clusions, and  as  he  constructed  his  watches,  he  fan- 
cied that  he  had  surprised  the  secrets  of  the  union 
of  the  soul  with  the  body. 

So   it   was  that,   on   this  day,    perceiving  that 


Master  Zacharnis.  107 

Aubert  listened  to  him  attentively,  he  said  to  him 
in  a  tone  of  simple  conviction, — 

"  Dost  thou  know  what  life  is,  my  child  1  Hast 
thou  comprehended  the  action  of  those  springs 
which  produce  existence  1  Hast  thou  examined 
thyself?  No;  and  yet,  with  the  eyes  of  science, 
thou  mightst  have  seen  the  intimate  relation 
which  exists  between  God's  work  and  my  own,  for 
it  is  from  his  creature  that  I  have  copied  the  com- 
binations of  the  wheels  of  my  clocks." 

"  jMaster,"  replied  Aubert,  eagerly,  "  can  you 
compai'e  a  copper  or  steel  machine  with  that 
breath  of  God  which  is  called  the  soul,  which  ani- 
mates our  bodies,  as  the  breeze  lends  motion  to 
the  flowers'?  What  mechanism  could  be  so  ad- 
justed as  to  inspire  us  with  thought?" 

"  That  is  not  the  question,"  i-esponded  Master 
Zachariiis,  gently,  but  with  all  the  obstinacy  of  a 
blind  man  walking  towards  an  abyss.  "  In  order 
to  understand  me,  thou  must  recall  the  object  of 
the  escapement  which  I  have  invented.  When  I 
saw  the  irregular  working  of  clocks,  I  understood 
that  the  movements  shut  up  in  them  did  not  suf- 
fice, and  that  it  was  necessary  to  submit  them  to 
the  regularity  of  some  independent  force.  I  then 
thought  that  the  balance-wheel  might  accomplish 
this,  and  I  succeeded  in  regulating  the  movement ! 
Now,  was  it  not  a  sublime  idea  that  came  to  me, 
to  return  to  it  its  lost  force  by  the  action  of  the 
clock  itself,  which  it  was  charged  with  regu- 
lating 1 " 

Aubert  assented  by  a  motion. 

"  Now,  Aubert,"  continued  the  old  man,  grow- 


108  Afdster  Zacharius. 

ing  animated,  "cast  thine  eyes  upon  thyself! 
Dost  thou  not  understand  that  there  are  two  dis- 
tinct forces  in  us,  that  of  the  soul  and  that  of  the 
body,  that  is,  a  movement  and  a  regulator]  The- 
sold  is  the  principle  of  life ;  that  is,  then,  the 
movement.  Whether  it  is  produced  by  a  weight, 
by  a  spring,  or  by  an  immaterial  influence,  it  is 
none  the  less  at  the  heart.  But  without  the  body 
this  movement  would  be  unequal,  irregular,  im- 
possible !  Thus  the  body  regulates  the  soul,  and, 
like  the  balance-wheel,  it  is  submitted  to  regular 
oscillations.  And  this  is  so  true,  that  one  f^lls  ill 
when  one's  drink,  food,  sleep  —  in  a  word,  the 
functions  of  the  body  —  are  not  properly  regu- 
lated !  As  in  my  watches,  the  soul  renders  to  the 
body  the  force  lost  by  its  oscillations.  Well,  what 
produces  this  intimate  union  between  soul  and 
body,  if  not  a  marvellous  escapement,  by  which 
the  wheels  of  the  one  work  into  the  wheels  of  the 
other  1  This  is  what  I  have  divined,  applied  ;  and 
there  are  no  longer  any  secrets  for  me  in  this  life, 
which  is,  after  all,  but  an  ingenious  mechanism  !  " 

Master  Zacharius  was  sublime  to  see  in  this  hal- 
lucination, which  transported  him  to  the  ultimate 
mysteries  of  the  infinite.  But  his  daughter 
Gerande,  standing  on  the  threshold  of  the  door, 
had  heard  all.  She  rushed  into  her  father's  arms, 
and  he  pressed  her  convulsively  to  his  breast. 

"What  is  the  matter  with  thee,  my  daughter'?" 
he  asked. 

"  If  I  had  only  a  spring  here,"  said  she,  putting 
her  hand  on  her  heart,  "  I  would  not  love  you  as 
I  do,  father." 


Mastei'  Zacharius.  109 

Master  Zacharius  looked  intently  at  Gerande, 
and  did  not  reply.  Suddenly  he  uttered  a  cry, 
carried  his  hand  eagerly  to  his  heart,  and  fell 
fainting  on  his  old  leathern  chaii'. 

"Father,  what  is  the  matter']" 

"  Help  !  "  cried  Aubert.     "  Scholastique  !  " 

But  Scholastique  did  not  come  at  once.  Some 
one  was  knocking  at  the  front  door ;  she  had  gone 
to  open  it,  and  when  she  I'eturned  to  the  shop,  be- 
fore she  could  open  her  mouth,  the  old  watch- 
maker, having  recovered  his  senses,  spoke  :  — 

"  I  divine,  my  old  Scholastique,  that  you  bring 
me  still  another  of  those  accursed  watches  which 
have  stopped." 

"  0  Lord,  it  is  true  enough  ! "  replied  Scholas- 
tique, handing  a  watch  to  Aubert. 

"  My  heart  could  not  be  mistaken  ! "  said  the 
old  man,  with  a  sigh. 

Aubert  now  carefully  readjusted  the  watch,  but 
it  would  not  go. 


110  Master  Zacharius. 


III. 

A    STRANGE    VISIT. 

lOOR  Geraude  would  have  lost  her  life 
with  that  of  her  father,  had  it  not  been 
for  the  thought  of  Aubert,  who  still  at- 
tached her  to  the  world. 
The  old  watchmaker  was,  little  by  little,  pass- 
ing away.  His  faculties  evidently  grew  more 
feeble,  as  he  concentrated  them  on  a  single 
thought.  By  a  sad  association  of  ideas,  he  re- 
ferred everything  to  his  monomania,  and  a  human 
existence  seemed  to  have  departed  from  him,  and 
given  place  to  the  extra-natural  existence  of  the 
intermediate  powers.  Moreover,  certain  malicious 
rivals  revived  the  hostile  rumors  which  had  spread 
concerning  his  labors. 

The  news  of  the  strange  derangements  which 
his  watches  betrayed  had  a  prodigious  effect  upon 
the  master  clockmakers  of  Geneva.  What  signi- 
fied this  sudden  inertia  of  their  wheels,  and  why 
these  strange  relations  which  they  seemed  to  have 
with  the  old  man's  life  ?  These  were  the  kind  of 
mysteries  which  people  never  contemplate  without 
a  secret  terror.  In  the  various  classes  of  the 
town,  from  the  apprentices  to  the  great  lords  who 
used  his  watches,  there  was  no  one  who  could  not 
himself  judge  of  the  singularity  of  the  fact.  The 
citizens  wished,  but  in  vain,  to  penetrate  to  Master 


Master  Zacharius.  Ill 

Zacharius.  He  fell  very  ill ;  and  this  enabled  his 
daughter  to  withdraw  him  from  incessant  visits, 
which  thereupon  degenerated  into  reproaches  and 
recriminations. 

Medicines  and  physicians  were  powerless  in 
presence  of  this  organic  wasting  away,  the  cause 
of  which  could  not  be  discovered.  It  sometimes 
seemed  as  if  the  old  man's  heart  had  ceased  to 
beat;  then  the  pulsations  were  resumed  with  an 
alarming  irregularity. 

A  custom  existed,  in  those  days,  of  submitting 
the  works  of  the  masters  to  the  judgment  of  the 
people.  The  heads  of  the  various  corporations 
sought  to  distinguish  themselves  by  the  novelty 
or  the  perfection  of  their  productions,  and  it  was 
among  these  that  the  condition  of  Master  Zacha- 
rius excited  the  most  lively,  because  most  inter- 
ested, commiseration.  His  rivals  pitied  him  the 
more  willingly,  the  less  he  was  to  be  feared.  They 
never  forgot  the  old  man's  success,  when  he  exhib- 
ited his  magnificent  clocks  with  moving  figures, 
his  striking  watches,  which  provoked  the  general 
admiration,  and  commanded  such  high  prices  in 
the  cities  of  France,  Switzerland,  and  Germany. 

Meanwhile,  thanks  to  the  constant  and  tender 
care  of  Gerande  and  Aubert,  his  strength  seemed  to 
return  a  little,  and  in  the  tranquillity  in  which  his 
convalescence  left  him,  he  succeeded  in  detaching 
himself  from  the  thoughts  which  had  absorbed 
him.  As  soon  as  he  could  walk,  his  daughter  lured 
him  away  from  the  house,  which  was  still  besieged 
with  dissatisfied  intruders.  Aubert  remained  in 
the   shop,  vainly  adjusting   and   readjusting   the 


112  Master  Zacharius. 

rebel  watches ;  and  the  poor  boy,  cdmpletely  mys- 
tified, sometimes  covei-ed  his  face  with  his  hands, 
fearful  that  he,  like  his  master,  might  go  mad. 

Gerande  led  her  father  towards  the  more  pleas- 
ant promenades  of  the  town.  With  his  arm  rest- 
ing on  hers,  she  conducted  him  sometimes  through 
the  quarter  of  Saint  Antoine,  the  view  from  which 
extends  towards  Cologny  and  on  the  lake  ;  on  fine 
mornings  they  caught  sight  of  the  gigantic  peaks 
of  Mount  Buet  against  the  horizon.  Gerande 
pointed  out  these  spots  to  her  father,  who  had  well- 
nigh  forgotten  even  their  names.  His  memory 
wandered,  and  he  took  a  childish  interest  in  learn- 
ing anew  what  had  passed  from  his  mind.  Master 
Zacharius  leaned  upon  his  daughter,  and  the  two 
heads,  one  white  as  snow  and  the  other  covered 
with  rich  golden  tresses,  were  confounded  in  the 
same  sun's  ray. 

So  it  came  about  that  the  old  watchmaker  at 
last  perceived  that  he  was  not  alone  in  the  world. 
As  he  looked  upon  his  young  and  lovely  daughter, 
himself  old  and  broken,  he  reflected  that  after  his 
death  she  would  be  left  alone,  without  support. 
Many  of  the  young  mechanics  of  Geneva  had  al- 
ready sought  to  win  Gerande's  love ;  but  none  of 
them  had  succeeded  in  gaining  access  to  the  impen- 
etrable retreat  of  the  watchmaker's  household.  It 
was  natural,  then,  that  during  this  lucid  interval 
the  old  man's  choice  should  fall  on  Aubert  Thun. 
Once  struck  with  this  thought,  he  remarked  to 
himself  that  this  yoiing  couple  had  been  brought 
up  with  the  same  ideas  and  the  same  beliefs,  and 
the  oscillations  of  their  hearts  seemed  to  him,  as 
he  said  one  day  to  Scholastique,  "  isochronal." 


Master  Zacharius.  113 

The  old  servant,  literally  delighted  with  the 
word,  though  she  did  not  understand  it,  swoi'e  by 
her  holy  patron  saint  that  the  whole  town  should 
hear  it  within  a  quarter  of  an  hour.  Master 
Zacharius  found  it  difficult  to  calm  her,  but  made 
her  promise  to  keep  on  this  subject  a  silence  which 
she  never  was  known  to  observe. 

So,  though  Gerande  and  Aubert  were  ignorant 
of  it,  all  Geneva  was  soon  talking  of  their  speedy 
union.  But  it  happened  also  that,  while  the 
worthy  folk  were  gossiping,  a  strange  chuckle 
was  often  heard,  and  a  voice  saying,  "  Gerande  will 
not  wed  Aubert." 

If  the  gossipers  turned  round,  they  found  them- 
selves facing  a  little  old  man  who  was  quite  a 
stranger  to  them. 

How  old  was  this  singular  being  1  No  one  covild 
have  told.  People  conjectured  that  he  must  have 
existed  for  several  centuries,  and  that  was  all. 
His  big  flat  head  rested  upon  shoulders  the  width 
of  which  was  equal  to  the  height  of  his  body ; 
this  was  not  above  three  feet.  This  personage 
would  have  figured  well  on  a  pendulum  fulcrum, 
for  the  dial  would  have  naturally  been  placed  on 
his  face,  and  the  balance-wheel  would  have  oscil- 
lated at  its  ease  in  his  chest.  His  nose  might 
readily  be  taken  for  the  style  of  a  sun-dial,  for  it 
was  small  and  sharp ;  his  teeth,  far  apart,  resem- 
bled the  gearing  of  a  wheel,  and  ground  themselves 
between  his  lips  ;  his  voice  had  the  metallic  sound 
of  a  bell,  and  you  could  hear  his  heart  beat  like 
the  tick-tick  of  a  clock.  This  little  man,  whose 
arms  moved   like  the  needles  on  a  dial,  walked 


114  Master  Zacharuis. 

with  jerks,  without  ever  turning  round.  If  any  one 
followed  him,  it  was  found  that  he  walked  a  league 
an  hour,  and  that  his  course  was  nearly  circular. 

This  strange  being  had  not  long  been  seen  wan- 
dering, or  rather  circulating,  around  the  town ; 
but  it  had  already  been  observed  that,  every  day, 
at  the  moment  when  the  sun  passed  the  meridian, 
he  stopped  before  the  Cathedral  of  Saint  Pierre, 
and  resumed  his  course  after  the  twelve  strokes  of 
midday  had  sounded.  Excepting  at  this  precise 
moment,  he  seemed  to  become  a  part  of  all  the 
conversations  in  which  the  old  watchmaker  was 
talked  of,  and  people  asked  each  other,  in  terror, 
what  relation  could  exist  between  him  and  Master 
Zacharius.  It  was  remarked,  too,  that  he  never 
lost  sight  of  the  old  man  and  his  daughter  while 
they  were  taking  their  promenades. 

One  day  Gerande  perceived  this  monster  look- 
ing at  her  with  a  hideous  smile.  She  clung  to 
her  father  with  a  friglitened  motion. 

"  What  is  the  matter,  my  Gerande  1 "  asked 
Master  Zacharius. 

"  I  do  not  know,"  replied  the  young  girl. 

"But  thou  art  changed,  my  child.  Art  thou 
going  to  Ml  ill  in  thy  turn '?  Ah,  well,"  he  added, 
with  a  sad  smile,  "  then  I  must  take  care  of  thee, 
and  I  will  do  it  tenderly." 

"  0  father,  it  will  be  nothing.  I  am  cold,  and 
I  imagine  that  it  is  —  " 

"  What,  Gerande  1 " 

"  The  presence  of  that  man,  who  always  follows 
us,"  she  replied  in  a  low  tone. 

Master  Zacharius  turned  towards  the  little  old 


Master  Zacharius.  115 

"  Faith,  he  goes  well,"  said  he,  with  a  satisfied 
air,  "  for  it  is  just  four  o'clock.  Fear  nothing, 
my  child  ;  it  is  not  a  man,  it  is  a  clock  !  " 

Gei'ande  looked  at  her  father  in  teiTor.  How 
could  Master  Zacharius  read  the  hour  on  this 
strange  creature's  visage  1 

"By  the  by,"  continued  the  old  watchmaker, 
paying  no  fiu'ther  attention  to  the  matter,  "  I  have 
not  seen  Aubert  for  several  days." 

"  He  has  not  left  us,  however,  father,"  said  Ge- 
rande,  whose  thoughts  turned  into  a  gentler  channel. 

"  What  is  he  doing,  then  1.  " 

"  He  is  working." 

"Ah  !  "  cried  the  old  man.  "  He  is  at  work  re- 
paii'ing  my  watches,  is  he  not  1  But  he  will  never 
succeed ;  for  it  is  not  repairs  they  need,  but  a 
resurrection  ! " 

Gerande  remained  silent. 

"  I  must  know,"  added  the  old  man,  "  if  they 
have  brought  back  any  of  those  damned  watches, 
upon  which  the  Devil  has  imposed  an  epidemic  ! " 

After  these  words  Master  Zacharius  fell  into 
absolute  taciturnity^,  till  he  knocked  at  the  door 
of  his  house,  and  for  the  first  time  since  his  con- 
valescence descended  to  his  shop,  while  Gerande 
sadly  repaired  to  her  chamber. 

At  the  moment  when  Master  Zacharius  crossed 
the  threshold  of  his  shop,  one  of  the  many  clocks 
suspended  on  the  wall  struck  five  o'clock.  Usu- 
ally the  bells  of  these  clocks  —  admirably  regulated 
as  they  were  —  struck  simultaneously,  and  this  re- 
joiced the  old  man's  heart ;  but  on  this  day  the 
bells  struck  one  after  another,  so  that  for  a  quarter 


IIG  Master  Zacharius. 

of  an  hour  the  ear  was  deafened  by  the  successive 
noise.  Master  Zacharius  suffered  terribly ;  he 
could  not  remain  still,  but  went  from  one  clock  to 
the  other,  and  beat  the  measure  for  them,  as  an 
orchestra  leader  who  has  no  longer  control  over 
his  musicians. 

When  the  last  had  ceased  striking,  the  door  of 
the  shop  opened,  and  Master  Zacharius  shuddered 
from  head  to  foot  to  see  before  him  the  little  old 
man,  who  looked  fixedly  at  him  and  said,  — 

"  Master,  may  I  not  speak  with  you  a  few  mo- 
ments % " 

"Who  are  youl"  asked  the  watchmaker,  ab- 
ruptly. 

"A  colleague.  I  am  charged  with  regulating 
the  sun." 

"  Ah,  you  regulate  the  sun  1 "  replied  Master 
Zacharius,  eagerly,  without  wincing.  "  I  can 
scai'cely  compliment  you  upon  it.  Your  sun  goes 
badly,  and  in  order  to  make  ourselves  agree  with 
it,  we  have  to  keep  advancing  and  retarding  our 
clocks ! " 

"  And,  by  the  Devil's  cloven  foot,"  cried  this 
weird  personage,  "you  are  right,  my  master  !  My 
sun  does  not  always  indicate  midday  at  the  same 
moment  as  your  clocks ;  but  some  day  it  will  be 
known  that  this  is  because  of  the  inequality  of 
the  movement  of  the  earth's  transfer,  and  a  mean 
midday  will  be  invented  which  will  regulate  this 
irregularity  !  " 

"Shall  I  live  till  thenr'  asked  the  old  man, 
with  glistening  eyes. 

"  Without  doubt,"  replied  the  little   old  man, 


Master  Zacharius.  117 

laughing.  "  Can  vou  believe  that  you  will  ever 
die?" 

"  Alas  !  I  am  very  ill." 

"  Ah,  let  us  talk  of  that.  By  Beelzebub  !  that 
will  lead  to  just  what  I  wish  to  speak  to  you 
about." 

Saying  this,  the  strange  being  leaped  upon  the 
old  leather  chair,  and  carried  his  legs  one  under 
the  other,  after  the  fashion  of  the  bones  which  the 
painters  of  funeral  hangings  cross  beneath  skulls. 
Then  he  resumed,  in  an  ironical  tone,  — 

"See,  Master  Zacharius,  what  is  going  on  in 
this  good  town  of  Geneva  ?  They  say  that  your 
health  is  failing,  that  your  watches  have  need  of  a 
doctor !  " 

"  Ah,  do  you  believe  that  there  is  an  intimate 
relation  between  their  existence  and  mine  ] "  cried 
Master  Zacharius. 

"  Why,  I  imagine  that  these  watches  have  faults, 
even  vices.  If  these  wantons  do  not  preserve  a 
regular  conduct,  it  is  right  that  they  should  bear 
the  consequences  of  their  irregulai'ity.  It  seems 
to  me  that  they  have  need  of  reforming  a  little  1 " 

"What  do  you  call  faults'!"  asked  Master 
Zacharius,  reddening  at  the  sarcastic  tone  in 
which  these  words  were  uttered.  "  Have  they  not 
a  right  to  be  proud  of  their  origin  ? " 

"  Not  too  proud,  not  too  proud,"  replied  the  lit- 
tle old  man.  "  They  bear  a  celebrated  name,  and 
an  illustrious  signature  is  graven  on  their  cases,  it 
is  true,  and  theirs  is  the  exclusive  privilege  of 
being  introduced  among  the  noblest  families  ;  but 
for  some  time  they  have  become  deranged,  and 


118  Master  Zacharius. 

you  can  do  nothing  about  it,  Master  Zacharius ; 
and  the  stupidest  appi-entice  iu  Geneva  could 
prove    it   to   you  !  " 

"  To  me,  to  me  !  "  cried  Master  Zacharius,  with 
a  flush  of  outraged  pride. 

"To  yon.  Master  Zacharius,  — you,  who  cannot 
restore  hfe  to  your  watches  ! " 

"  But  it  is  because  I  have  a  fever,  and  so  have 
they  also  ! "  replied  the  old  man,  as  a  cold  sweat 
broke  out  upon  him. 

"  Very  well,  they  will  die  with  you,  since  you 
are  prevented  from  imparting  a  little  elasticity  to 
their  springs." 

"  Die  !  No,  for  you  yourself  have  said  it  !  I 
cannot  die,  —  I,  the  first  watchmaker  in  the  world  ; 
I,  who,  by  means  of  these  pieces  and  diverse 
wheels,  have  been  able  to  regulate  the  movement 
with  absolute  precision  !  Have  I  not  subjected 
time  to  exact  laws,  and  can  I  not  dispose  of  it  like 
a  despot  1  Before  a  sublime  genius  had  disposed 
regularly  these  wandering  hours,  in  what  vast 
waste  was  human  destiny  plunged  %  At  what  cer- 
tain moment  could  the  acts  of  life  be  connected 
with  each  other  1  But  you,  man  or  devil,  what- 
ever you  may  be,  have  never  considered  the  mag- 
nificence of  my  art,  which  calls  every  science  to  its 
aid  !  No,  no  !  I,  Master  Zacharius,  cannot  die, 
for,  as  I  have  regulated  time,  time  would  end  with 
me !  It  would  return  to  the  infinite,  whence  my 
genius  has  rescued  it,  and  it  would  lose  itself  ir- 
reparably in  the  gulf  of  chaos  !  No,  I  can  no  more 
die  than  the  Creator  of  this  \miverse,  submitted 
to  its  laws  !    I  have  become  his  equal,  and  I  have 


Master  Zachariu's.  119 

partaken  of  his  power  !     If  God  has  created  eter- 
nity, Master  Zacharius  has  created  time  !  " 

The  old  watchmaker  now  resembled  the  fallen 
angel,  defiant  in  the  presence  of  the  Creator.  The 
little  old  man  gazed  at  him,  and  even  seemed  to 
breathe  into  him  this  impious  transport. 

"  Well  said,  master,"  he  replied.  "  Beelzebub 
had  less  right  than  you  to  compare  himself  with 
God !  Your  glory  must  not  perish  !  So  your 
servant  desires  to  give  you  the  method  of  control- 
ling these  rebellious  watches." 

"  What  is  it  1  what  is  it  1 "  cried  Master  Zacha- 
rius. 

"  You  shall  know  on  the  day  after  that  on  which 
you  have  given  me  your  daughter's  hand." 
"  My  Gerande  1 " 
"  Herself ! " 

"  My  daughter's  heart  is  not  free,"  replied  Mas- 
ter Zacharius,  who  seemed  neither  astonished  nor 
angry  at  the  strange  demand. 

"  Bah  !  She  is  not  the  least  beautiful  of  watches ; 
but  she  will  end  by  stopping  also  —  " 
"  My  daughter,  —  my  Gerande  !  No  !  " 
"  Well,  return  to  your  watches.  Master  Zacha- 
rius. Adjiist  and  readjust  them.  Get  ready  the 
marriage  of  your  daughter  and  your  apprentice. 
Temper  your  springs  with  your  best  steel.  Bless 
Aubert  and  the  pretty  Gerande.  But  remember, 
your  watches  will  never  go,  and  Gerande  will  not 
wed  Aubert !  " 

Thereupon  the  little  old  man  disappeared  so 
quickly  that  Master  Zacharius  could  not  hear  six 
o'clock  strike  in  his  breast. 


120  Master  Zacharius. 


IV. 

THE   CHURCH   OP   ST.    PIERRE 

ilEANWHILE  Master  Zachatais  became 
more  feeble  in  mind  and  body  every  day. 
An  unusual  excitement,  indeed,  impelled 
him  to  continue  his  work  more  eagerly 
than  ever,  nor  could  his  daughter  entice  him 
from   it. 

His  pride  was  still  more  aroused  after  the  scene 
in  which  his  strange  visitor  had  so  deeply  agitated 
him,  and  he  resolved  to  overcome,  by  the  force  of 
genius,  the  malign  influence  which  weighed  upon 
his  work  and  himself.  He  first  repaired  to  the 
various  clocks  of  the  town  which  were  confided  to 
his  care.  He  made  sure,  by  a  scrupulous  exam- 
ination, that  the  wheels  -were  in  good  condition, 
the  pivots  firm,  the  counter-weights  exactly  bal- 
anced. Every  part,  even  to  the  bells,  was  exam- 
hied  with  the  minute  attention  of  a  physician 
studying  the  breast  of  a  patient.  Nothing  indi- 
cated that  these  clocks  were  on  the  point  of  being 
affected  by  inertia. 

Gerande  and  Aubert  often  accompanied  the  old 
man  on  these  visits.  He  would  no  doubt  have 
been  pleased  to  see  them  eager  to  go  with  him, 
and  certainly  he  would  not  have  been  so  much  ab- 
sorbed in  his  approaching  end,  had  he  thought 
that  his  existence  was  to  be  prolonged  by  that 


Master  Zacharius.  121 

of  these  cherished  ones,  and  had  he  not  under- 
stood that  something  of  the  hfe  of  a  father  always 
remains  in  his  children. 

The  old  watchmaker,  on  returning  home,  re- 
sumed his  labors  with  feverish  zeal.  Though  per- 
suaded that  he  would  not  succeed,  it  yet  seemed 
to  him  impossible  that  this  coiild  be  so,  and  he 
unceasingly  took  apart  and  readjusted  the  watches 
which  were  brought  to  his  shop. 

Aubert  tortured  his  mind  in  vain  to  discover 
the  causes  of  the  evil. 

"  Master,"  said  he,  "  this  can  only  come  from 
the  wear  of  the  pivots  and  gearing." 

"  It  gives  you  pleasure,  then,  to  kill  me  little 
by  little  % "  replied  Master  Zacharius,  violently. 
"  Are  these  watches  child's  work  %  Have  I  not 
forged  these  pieces  of  copper  myself,  so  as  to  ob- 
tain a  greater  strength  1  Are  not  these  springs 
tempered  to  a  rare  perfection  1  Could  anybody 
have  used  finer  oils  than  mine  %  You  must  your- 
self agree  that  it  is  impossible,  and  you  avow,  in 
short,  that  the  devil  is  in  it  ! " 

From  morning  till  night  discontented  purchasers 
besieged  the  house,  and  they  got  access  to  the  old 
watchmaker  himself,  who  knew  not  which  of  them 
to  listen  to. 

"  This  watch  is  too  slow,  and  I  cannot  succeed 
in  regulating  it,"  said  one. 

"  This,"  said  another,  "  is  absolutely  obstinate, 
and  stands  still,  as  did  Joshua's  sun." 

"  If  it  is  true,"  said  most  of  them,  "  that  your 
health  has  an  influence  on  that  of  yoiir  watches, 
Master  Zacharius,  get  well  as  soon  as  possible." 
6 


122  Master  Zacharius. 

The  old  man  gazed  at  these  people  with  haggard 
eyes,  and  only  replied  by  shaking  his  head,  or  by 
a  few  sad  words  :  — 

"  Wait  till  the  first  fine  weather,  my  friends. 
The  season  is  coming  which  revives  existence  in 
wearied  bodies.  The  sun  must  come  to  warm  us 
all !  " 

"  A  fine  thing,  if  my  watches  are  to  be  ill  through 
the  winter  !  "  said  one  of  the  most  angry.  "  Do 
you  know,  Master  Zacharius,  that  your  name  is  in- 
scribed in  full  on  their  faces  1  By  the  Virgin,  you 
do  little  honor  to  your  signature  !  " 

It  happened  at  last  that  the  old  man,  abashed 
by  these  reproaches,  took  some  pieces  of  gold  from 
his  old  trunk,  and  began  to  buy  back  the  damaged 
watches.  At  news  of  this,  the  customers  came  in 
a  crowd,  and  the  poor  watchmaker's  money  fast 
melted  away ;  but  his  honesty  remained  intact. 
Gerande  wai-mly  praised  his  delicacy,  which  was 
leading  him  straight  towards  ruin  ;  and  Aubert 
soon  olfered   his  own  savings  to  his  master. 

"What  will  become  of  my  daughter  1"  said  Mas- 
ter Zacharius,  now  and  then  clinging,  in  the  ship- 
wreck, to  his  patei'nal  love. 

Aubert  dared  not  answer  that  he  was  full  of 
hope  for  the  future  and  of  deep  devotion  to  Ge- 
rande. Master  Zacharius  would  have  that  day 
called  him  his  son-in-law,  and  thus  refuted  the  sad 
prophecy,  which  still  buzzed  in  his  ears,  — 

•'  Gerande  will  not  wed  Aubert." 

The  watchmaker  at  last  succeeded  in  entirely 
despoiling  himself  His  antique  vases  passed  into 
the  hands  of  strangers  ;  he  deprived  himself  of  the 


Master  Zacharius.  123 

richly  carved  panels  which  adorned  the  walls  of 
his  house ;  some  primitive  pictui'es  of  the  early 
Flemish  painters  were  soon  disposed  of,  and  every- 
thing, even  to  the  precious  tools  that  his  genius 
had  invented,  were  sold  to  indemnify  the  clamor- 
ous customei's. 

Scholastique  alone  refused  to  listen  to  reason  on 
the  subject ;  but  her  efforts  failed  to  prevent  the 
unwelcome  visitors  from  reaching  her  master,  and 
from  soon  departing  with  some  valuable  object. 
Then  her  chattering  was  heard  in  all  the  streets 
of  the  neighborhood,  where  she  had  long  been 
known.  She  eagerly  denied  the  rumors  of  sorcery 
and  magic  on  the  part  of  Master  Zacharius,  which 
gained  currency ;  but  as  at  bottom  she  was  per- 
suaded of  their  truth,  she  said  her  prayers  over 
and  over  again  to  redeem  her  pious  falsehoods. 

It  had  been  noticed  that  for  some  time  the  old 
watchmaker  had  neglected  his  religious  duties. 
Time  was,  when  he  had  accompanied  Gerande  to 
church,  and  had  seemed  to  find  in  prayer  the  in- 
tellectual charm  which  it  imparts  to  thoughtful 
minds,  as  it  is  the  most  sublime  exercise  of  the 
imagination.  This  voluntary  neglect  of  holy  prac- 
tices, added  to  the  secret  habits  of  his  life,  had 
in  some  sort  confirmed  the  accusations  levelled 
against  his  labors.  So,  with  the  double  purpose 
of  drawing  her  father  back  to  God  and  to  the 
world,  Gerande  resolved  to  call  religion  to  her  aid. 
She  thought  that  it  might  give  some  vitality  to 
his  dying  soul ;  but  the  dogmas  of  faith  and  hu- 
mility had  to  combat,  in  the  soul  of  Master  Zacha- 
rius, an  insurmountable  pride,  and  came  into  col- 


124  Master  Zacharius. 

lision  with  that  vanity  of  science  which  connects 
everytliing  with  itself,  without  rising  to  the  infinite 
source  whence  first  principles  flow. 

It  was  under  these  circumstances  that  the  young 
girl  undertook  her  father's  conversion,  and  her  ni- 
fluence  was  so  effective  that  the  old  watchmaker 
promised  to  attend  high  mass  at  the  Cathedral  on 
the  following  Sunda3^  Old  Scholastique  could  not 
contain  her  joy,  and  at' last  found  irrefutable  ar- 
guments against  the  gossiping  tongues,  which  ac- 
cused her  master  of  impiety.  She  spoke  of  it  to 
her  neighbors,  her  friends,  her  enemies,  to  those 
whom  she  knew  not  as  well  as  to  those  whom  she 
knew. 

"  In  faith,  we  scarcely  believe  what  you  tell  us, 
dame  Scholastique,"  they  replied  ;  "  Master  Zacha- 
rius has  always  acted  in  concert  with  the  devil  !  " 

"  You  have  n't  counted,  then,"  replied  the  old 
servant,  "  the  fine  bells  which  strike  for  my  mas- 
ter's clocks  1  How  many  times  they  have  struck 
the  hours  of  prayer  and  the  mass  !  " 

"  No  doubt,"  they  woiild  reply.  "  But  has  he 
not  invented  machines  which  go  all  by  themselves, 
and  which  actually  do  the  work  of  a  real  man  "? " 

"  Could  a  child  of  the  devil,"  exclaimed  dame 
Scholastique,  wrathfully,  "have  executed  the  fine 
iron  clock  of  the  chateau  of  Andernatt,  which  the 
town  of  Geneva  was  not  rich  enough  to  buy  1  A 
pious  motto  appeared  at  each  hour,  and  a  Christian 
who  obeyed  them  would  have  gone  straight  to 
Paradise  !     Is  that  the  work  of  the  devil  1  " 

This  masterpiece,  made  twenty  years  before, 
had  carried  Master  Zacharius's  fame  to  its  acme  : 


Master  Zacharius.  125 

but  eTen  then  there  had  been  accusations  against 
him  of  sorcery.  At  least,  the  old  man's  visit  to 
the  Cathedi-al  woixld  reduce  malicious  tongues  to 
silence. 

Master  Zacharius,  doubtless  having  forgotten 
the  promise  made  to  his  daughter,  had  returned 
to  his  shop.  After  being  convinced  of  his  power- 
lessness  to  give  life  to  his  watches,  he  resolved  to 
try  if  he  could  not  make  some  new  ones.  He 
abandoned  all  these  inert  bodies,  and  devoted  him- 
self to  the  completion  of  the  crystal  watch,  which 
he  intended  to  be  his  masterpiece  ;  but  in  vain  did 
he  use  his  most  perfect  tools,  and  employ  rubies 
and  diamonds  for  resisting  friction.  The  watch 
fell  from  his  hands  the  first  time  that  he  attempted 
to  adjust  it  ! 

The  old  man  concealed  this  circumstance  from 
every  one,  even  from  his  daughter ;  but  from  that 
time  his  health  rapidly  declined.  There  were 
only  the  last  oscillations  of  a  pendulum,  which  goes 
slower  when  nothing  restores  its  primitive  force.  It 
seemed  as  if  the  laws  of  gravity,  acting  directly 
upon  him,  were  dragging  him  irresistibly  down  to 
the  grave. 

The  Sunday  so  ardently  anticipated  by  Gerande 
at  last  arrived.  The  weather  was  fine,  and  the 
temperature  inspiriting.  The  people  of  Geneva 
were  passing  quietly  through  the  streets,  gayly 
chatting  about  the  return  of  spring.  Gerande, 
tendei'ly  taking  the  old  man's  arm,  directed  her 
steps  towards  the  Cathedral,  while  Scholastique 
followed  behind  with  the  prayer-books.  People 
looked  curiously  at  them  as  they  passed.     The  old 


126  Master  Zacharius. 

watchmaker  permitted  himself  to  be  led  like  a 
child,  or  rather  like  a  blind  man.  The  faithful  of 
Saint  Pierre  were  almost  frightened  when  they 
saw  him  cross  the  threshold,  and  shrank  back  at 
his  approach. 

The  chants  of  high  mass  were  already  resoimd- 
ing  through  the  church.  Gerande  advanced  to  her 
accustomed  bench,  and  kneeled  with  profound  and 
simple  reverence.  Master  Zacharius  remained 
standing  beside  her. 

The  ceremonies  continued  with  the  majestic 
solemnity  of  that  pious  age,  but  the  old  man  had 
no  faith.  He  did  not  implore  the  jDity  of  Heaven 
with  cries  of  anguish  of  the  "  Kyrie  "  ;  he  did  not, 
with  the  "  Gloria  in  Excelsis,"  sing  the  splendors 
of  the  celestial  heights ;  the  reading  of  the  Testa- 
ment did  not  draw  him  from  his  materialistic 
revery,  and  he  forgot  to  join  in  the  homage  of  the 
"  Credo."  This  proud  old  man  remained  motion- 
less, as  insensible  and  silent  as  a  stone  statue  ;  and 
even  at  the  solemn  moment  when  the  bell  an- 
nounced the  miracle  of  transubstantiation,  he  did 
not  bow  his  head,  but  gazed  directly  at  the  sacred 
host  which  the  priest  raised  above  the  heads  of  the 
faithful.  Gerande  looked  at  her  father,  and  a  flood 
of  tears  moistened  her  missal.  At  this  moment 
the  clock  of  Saint  Pierre  struck  half  past  eleven. 
Master  Zacharius  turned  quickly  towards  this  an- 
cient clock  which  still  spoke.  It  seemed  to  him 
as  if  its  face  was  gazing  steadily  at  him  j  the  figures 
of  the  hours  shone  as  if  they  had  been  engraved 
in  lines  of  fire,  and  the  hands  darted  forth  electric 
sparks  from  their  sharp  points. 


Master  Zacharuis.  127 

The  mass  ended.  It  was  customary  for  the 
"  Augelus "  to  be  said  at  noon,  and  the  priests, 
before  leaving  the  altar,  waited  for  the  clock  to 
strike  the  hour  of  twelve.  In  a  few  moments  this 
prayer  would  ascend  to  the  feet  of  the  Virgin. 

But  suddenly  a  harsh  noise  was  heard.  Master 
Zacharius  uttered  a  jjiercing  cry. 

The  large  hand  of  the  clock,  having  reached 
twelve,  had  abruptly  stopped,  and  the  clock  did 
not  strike  the  hour. 

Gei-ande  hastened  to  her  father's  aid.  He  had 
fallen  down  motionless,  and  they  carried  him  out- 
side the  church. 

"It  is  the  death-blow ! "  murmured  Gerande, 
sobbing. 

When  he  had  been  borne  home,  Master  Zacha- 
rius lay  upon  his  bed  utterly  crushed.  Life 
seemed  only  to  still  exist  on  the  surface  of  his 
body,  like  the  last  whiffs  of  smoke  about  a  lamp 
just  extinguished. 

When  he  came  to  his  senses,  Aubert  and  Ge- 
rande were  leaning  over  him.  At  this  supreme 
moment  the  future  took  in  his  eyes  the  shape  of 
the  present.  He  saw  his  daughter  alone,  without 
support. 

"  My  son,"  said  he  to  Aubert,  "  I  give  my 
daughter  to  thee." 

So  saying,  he  stretched  out  his  hand  towards 
his  two  children,  who  were  thus  united  at  his 
death-bed. 

But  soon  Master  Zacharius  lifted  himself  up  in 
a  paroxysm  of  rage.  The  words  of  the  little  old 
man  recurred  to  his  mind. 


128  Master  Zaclmrius. 

"  I  do  not  wish  to  die  !  "  he  cried ;  "  I  cannot 
die  !  I,  Master  Zacharius,  ought  not  to  die  !  My 
books,  —  my  accounts  !  " 

He  sprang  from  his  bed  towards  a  book  in 
which  the  names  of  his  customers,  and  the  articles 
which  had  been  sold  to  them,  were  inscribed.  He 
seized  it  and  rapidly  turned  over  its  leaves,  and 
his  emaciated  thumb  fixed  itself  on  one  of  the 
pages. 

"  There  ! "  he  cried,  "  there  !  this  old  iron  clock, 
sold  to  Pittonaccio  !  It  is  the  only  one  that  has 
not  been  returned  to  me  !  It  still  exists,  —  it  goes, 
—  it  lives  !  Ah,  I  wish  for  it,  —  I  must  find  it !  I 
will  take  such  care  of  it  that  death  will  no  longer 
seek  me  ! " 

And  he  fainted  away. 

Aubert  and  Gerande  knelt  by  the  old  man's  bed- 
side, and  prayed  together. 


Master  Zacharim.  129 


THE    HOUR    OF    DEATH. 

ilEVERAL  days  passed,  and  Master  Zacha- 
rius,  though  ahiiost  dying,  rose  from  his 
bed  and  returned  to  active  life,  under  a 
supernatural  excitement.  He  lived  by 
pride.  But  Gerande  did  not  deceive  herself ;  her 
father's  body  and  soul  were  forever  lost. 

The  old  man  got  together  his  last  resources, 
without  thought  of  those  who  were  dependent 
upon  him.  He  betrayed  an  incredible  energy, 
walking,  ferreting  about,  and  mumbling  strange, 
incomprehensible  words. 

One  morning  Gerande  went  down  to  his  shop. 
Master  Zacharius  was  not  there.  She  waited  for 
him  all  day.     Master  Zacharius  did  not  return. 

Gerande  wept  bitterly,  but  her  father  did  not 
reappear. 

Aubert  searched  everywhere  through  the  town, 
and  soon  came  to  the  sad  conviction  that  the  old 
man  had  left  it. 

"  Let  us  find  my  father  !  "  cried  (ierande,  when 
the  young  apprentice  told  her  this  sad  news. 

"  Where  can  he  be  ^ "  Aubert  asked  himself. 

An  inspiration  suddenly  came  to  his  mind.  He 
remembered  the  last  words  which  Master  Zacha- 
rius had  spoken.  The  old  man  only  lived  now  in 
the  old  iron  clock  that  had  not  l)een  returned  ! 
6  I 


130  Master  Zacharius. 

Mastei'  Zacharius  must  have  gone  in  search  of 
it. 

Aubert  spoke  of  this  to  Gerande. 

"  Let  us  look  at  my  father's  book,"  she  repHed. 

They  descended  to  the  shop.  The  book  was 
open  on  the  bench.  All  the  watches  or  clocks 
made  by  the  old  man,  and  which  had  been  re- 
turned to  him  out  of  order,  were  stricken  out, 
excepting  one. 

"  Sold  to  M.  Pittonaccio,  an  iron  clock,  with  bell  and 
moving  figmes  ;  sent  to  his  chateau  at  Anderiiatt." 

It  was  this  "  moral  "  clock  of  which  Scholastique 
had  spoken  with  so  much  enthusiasm. 

"  My  father  is  thei'e  !  "  cried  Gerande. 

"  Let  us  hasten  thither,"  replied  Aubert.  "  We 
may  still  save  him  !  " 

"  Not  for  this  life,"  murmured  Gerande,  "  but 
at  least  for  the  other." 

"  By  the  grace  of  God,  Gerande  !  The  chateau 
of  Andernatt  stands  in  the  gorge  of  the  '  Dents-du- 
Midi,'  twenty  hours  from  Geneva.     Let  us  go  ! " 

That  very  evening  Aubert  and  Gerande,  followed 
by  the  old  servant,  set  out  on  foot  by  the  road 
which  skirts  Lake  Loman.  They  accomplished 
five  leagues  during  the  night,  stopping  neither  at 
Bessinge  nor  at  Ermance,  where  rises  the  famous 
chateau  of  the  Mayors.  They  with  difficulty 
forded  the  torrent  of  the  Dranse  ;  and  everywhere 
they  went  they  inquired  for  Master  Zacharius,  and 
were  soon  convinced  that  they  were  on  his  track. 

The  next  morning,  at  daybreak,  having  passed 
Thonon,   they  reached  Evian,   whence   the  Swiss 


Master  Zacharius.  131 

territory  may  be  seen  extended  over  twelve 
leagues.  But  the  travellers  did  not  even  perceive 
the  enchanting  prospect.  They  went  straight 
forward,  urged  on  by  a  supernatural  force. 
Aubert,  leaning  on  a  knotty  stick,  offered  his 
arm  alternately  to  Gerande  and  to  Scholastique  ; 
and  he  exerted  a  supreme  energy  to  sustain  his 
companions.  All  three  talked  of  their  sorrow,  of 
their  hopes,  and  thus  passed  along  the  beautiful 
road  by  the  w^ater-side,  and  across  the  narrow 
plateau  which  unites  the  borders  of  the  lake  with 
the  eminences  of  the  Chalais.  They  soon  reached 
Bouveret,  where  the  Rhone  enters  Lake  Leman. 

On  leaving  this  town  they  diverged  from  the 
lake,  and  their  weariness  increased  amid  these 
mountain  districts.  Vionnaz,  Chesset,  CoUombay, 
half-lost  villages,  were  soon  left  behind.  Mean- 
while their  knees  bent,  their  feet  were  lacerated 
by  the  sharp  points  which  covered  the  ground  like 
granite  bushes.     No  trace  of  Master  Zacharius ! 

He  must  be  found,  however,  and  the  two  young 
people  did  not  seek  repose  either  in  the  isolated 
hamlets  or  at  the  chateau  of  Monthay,  which, 
with  its  dependencies,  formed  the  appanage  of 
Margaret  of  Savoy.  At  last,  late  in  the  day,  they 
reached  the  hermitage  of  Notre-Dame-du-Sex, 
which  is  situated  at  the  base  of  the  Dents-du-Midi, 
six  hundred  feet  above  the  Khone.  They  were 
nearly  dead  with  fatigue. 

The  hermit  received  the  wanderers  as  night  was 
falling.  They  could  not  have  gone  another  step, 
and  here  they  must  needs  rest. 

The  hermit  could  give  them  no  news  of  Master 


132  Master  Zacharms. 

Zacharius.  They  could  scarcely  hope  to  find  him 
still  living  amid  these  sad  solitudes..  The  night 
was  dark,  the  wind  howled  amid  the  mountains, 
and  the  avalanches  I'oared  down  from  the  summits 
of  the  broken  crags. 

Aubert  and  Gerande,  crouching  before  the 
hermit's  hearth,  told  him  their  melancholy  tale. 
Their  mantles,  covered  with  snow,  were  drying  in 
a  corner ;  and  without,  the  hermit's  dog  barked 
lugubriously,  and  mingled  his  voice  with  that  of 
.the  tempest. 

a  Pride,"  said  the  hermit  to  his  guests,  "  has 
lost  an  angel  created  for  good.  It  is  the  obstacle 
against  which  the  destinies  of  man  strike.  You 
cannot  oppose  reasoning  to  pride,  the  principal  of 
all  the  vices,  since,  by  its  very  nature,  the  proud 
man  refuses  to  listen  to  it.  It  only  remains,  then, 
to  pray  for  your  father  !  " 

All  four  knelt  down,  when  the  barking  of  the 
dog  redoubled,  and  some  one  knocked  at  the  door 
of  the  hermitage. 

"  Open,  in  the  name  of  the  devil !  " 

The  door  yielded  under  the  blows,  and  a  dis- 
hevelled, haggard,  ill-clothed  man  appeared. 

"  My  father  !  "  cried  Gerande. 

It  was  Master  Zacharius. 

"  Where  am  I  % "  said  he.  "  In  eternity  !  Time 
is  ended,  —  the  hours  no  longer  strike,  —  the 
hands  have  stopped  !  " 

"  Father  !  "  returned  Gerande,  with  so  piteous 
an  emotion  that  the  old  man  seemed  to  return  to 
the  world  of  the  living. 

"Thou  here,  Gerande T'  he  cried;  "and  thou, 


Master  Zacharius.  133 

Aubert  ]  Ah,  my  dear  betrothed  ones,  you  are 
going  to  be  married  in  our  old  church  !  " 

"Father,"  said  Gerande,  seizing  him  by  thg 
arm,  "  come  home  to  Geneva,  —  come  with  us  !  " 

The  old  man  tore  away  from  his  daughter  and 
hurried  towards  the  door,  on  the  threshold  of 
which  the  snow  was  falling  in  large  flakes.     7 

"  Do  not  abandon  your  children  !  "  cried  Au- 
bert. 

"  Why  return,"  replied  the  old  man,  sadly,  "  to 
those  places  which  my  life  has  already  quitted, 
and  where  a  part  of  myself  is  forever  buried  ] " 

"  Your  soul  is  not  dead !  "  said  the  hermit, 
solemnly. 

"  My  soul  1  0  no,  —  its  wheels  are  good  !  I 
perceive  it  beating  regularly  —  " 

"Your  soul  is  immaterial, — your  soul  is  im- 
mortal ! "  replied  the  hermit,  sternly. 

"  Yes,  —  like  my  glory  !  But  it  is  shut  up  in  the 
chateau  of  Andernatt,  and  I  wish  to  see  it  again  !  " 

The  hermit  crossed  himself ;  Scholastique  be- 
came almost  inanimate.  Aubert  held  Gerande  in 
his  arms. 

"  The  chateau  of  Andernatt  is  inhabited  by  one 
who  is  damned,"  said  the  hermit,  "  one  who  does 
not  salute  the  cross  of  my  hermitage." 

"  My  father,  go  not  thither  !  " 

"  I  want  my  soul !     My  soul  is  mine  —  " 

"  Hold  him  !     Hold  my  father  !  "  cried  Gerande. 

But  the  old  man  had  leaped  across  the  thresh- 
old, and  plunged  into  the  night,  crying,  "  Mine, 
mine,  my  soul !  " 

Gerande,    Aubert,    and    Scholastique   hastened 


134  Master  Zacharius. 

aftei'  him.  They  went  by  difficult  paths,  across 
which  Master  Zacharius  sped  hke  a  tempest,  urged 
by  au  irresistible  force.  The  snow  raged  around 
them,  and  mingled  its  white  flakes  with  the  froth 
of  the  tumbling  torrents. 

As  they  passed  the  chapel  erected  in  memory 
of  the  massacre  of  the  Theban  legion,  they  hur- 
riedly crossed  themselves.  Master  Zacharius  was 
not  to  be  seen. 

At  last  the  village  of  Evionnaz  appeared  in  the 
midst  of  this  sterile  region.  The  hardest  heart 
would  have  been  moved  to  see  this  hamlet,  lost 
among  these  horrible  solitudes.  The  old  man 
sped  on,  and  plunged  into  the  deepest  gorge  of 
the  Dent-du-Midi,  which  pierce  the  sky  with 
their  sharp  peaks. 

Soon  a  ruin,  old  and  gloomy  as  the  rocks  at  its 
base,  rose  before  him. 

"It  is  there — there!"  he  cried,  still  more 
frantically   hastening  his  pace. 

The  chateau  of  Andernatt  was  a  ruin  even  then. 
A  thick,  crumbling  tower  rose  above  it,  and  seemed 
to  menace  with  its  downfall  the  old  gables  which 
reared  themselves  below.  The  vast  piles  of  jagged 
stones  frowned  gloomily  to  the  right.  Several  dark 
halls  appeared  amid  the  debris,  with  caved-in  ceil- 
ings, now  become  the  abode  of  vipers. 

A  low  and  narrow  postern,  opening  upon  a  ditch 
choked  with  rubbish,  gave  access  to  the  chateau. 
No  doubt  some  margrave,  half  loi-d,  half  brigand, 
had  inherited  it ;  to  the  margrave  had  succeeded 
bandits  or  counterfeiters,  who  had  been  hung  on 
the  scene  of  their  crime.     The  legend  went  that. 


Master  Zacharius.  135 

on  winter  nights,  Satan  came  to  lead  his  diabolical 
dances  on  the  slope  of  the  deep  gorges  in  which  the 
shadow  of  these  ruins  was  engulfed. 

But  Master  Zacharius  was  not  dismayed  by 
their  sinister  aspect.  He  reached  the  postern. 
No  one  forbade  him  to  pass.  A  spacious  and 
gloomy  court  presented  itself  to  his  eyes.  He 
passed  along  the  kind  of  inclined  plane  which  con- 
ducted to  one  of  the  long  corridors,  the  arches  of 
which  seemed  to  banish  daylight  from  beneath 
their  heavy  springings.  His  advance  was  unre- 
sisted. Gerande,  Aubert,  and  Scholastique  closely 
followed  him. 

Master  Zacharius,  as  if  guided  by  an  irresistible 
hand,  seemed  sure  of  his  way,  and  strode  along 
with  rapid  step.  He  reached  an  old  worm-eaten 
door,  which  fell  before  his  blows,  whilst  the  bats 
described  oblique  circles  around  his  head. 

An  immense  hall,  better  preserved  than  the  rest, 
was  soon  reached.  High  sculptured  panels,  on 
which  larves,  ghouls,  and  other  strange  figures 
seemed  to  agitate  themselves  confusedly,  covered 
its  walls.  Several  long  and  narrow  windows 
shivered  beneath  the  bursts  of  the  tempest. 

Master  Zacharius,  on  reaching  the  middle  of 
this  hall,   uttered  a  cry  of  joy. 

On  an  iron  support,  fastened  to  the  wall,  stood 
the  clock  in  which  now  resided  his  entire  life. 
This  unequalled  masterpiece  represented  an  an- 
cient Roman  church,  with  its  heavy  bell-tower, 
where  there  was  a  complete  chime  for  the  anthem 
of  the  day,  the  "  Angelus,".the  mass,  and  vespers. 
Above  the  church  door,  which  opened  at  the  hoiir 


136  Master  Zacharms. 

of  the  ceremonies,  was  placed  a  "rose,"  in  the  centre 
of  which  two  hands  moved,  and  the  archivolt  of 
which  reproduced  the  twelve  hours  of  the  face 
scidptured  in  relief  Between  the  door  and  the 
rose,  just  as  Scholastique  had  said,  a  maxim,  rela- 
tive to  the  employment  of  every  moment  of  the 
day,  appeared  on  a  copper  plate.  Master  Zacha- 
rius  had  regulated  this  succession  of  devices  with  a 
really  Christian  solicitude  ;  the  hours  of  prayer, 
of  work,  of  repast,  of  recreation,  and  of  repose  fol- 
lowed each  other  according  to  the  religious  dis- 
cipline, and  were  to  infallibly  insure  salvation  to 
him  who  scrupulously  observed  their  commands. 

Master  Zacharius,  intoxicated  with  joy,  went 
forward  to  take  possession  of  the  clock,  when  a 
frightful  roar  of  laughter  resounded  behind  him. 

He  turned,  and  by  the  light  of  a  smoky  lamp 
recognized  the  little  old  man  of  Geneva. 

"  You  here  ^ "  cried  he. 

Gerande  was  afraid.  She  drew  closer  to  Au- 
bert. 

"  Good  day.  Master  Zacharius,"  said  the  mon- 
ster. 

"  Who  are  you  1 " 

"  Signor  Pittonaccio,  at  your  service  !  You 
have  come  to  give  me  your  daughter  !  You  have 
I'emembered  my  woi'ds,  • —  ^  Gerande  will  not  wed 
Aubert.'" 

The  young  apprentice  rushed  upon  Pittonaccio, 
who  escaped  ffom  him  like  a  shadow. 

"  Stop,  Aubert !  "  cried  Master  Zacharius. 

"  Good  night,"  said  Pittonaccio  ;  and  he  disap- 
peared. 


Master  Zacharius.  137 

"  My  father,  let  us  fly  from  this  hateful  place  !  " 
cried  Gerande.      "  My  father  !  " 

Master  Zacharius  was  no  longer  there.  He  was 
pursuing  the  phantom  of  Pittonaccio  across  the 
rickety  corridors.  Scholastique,  Gerande,  and 
Aubert  remained,  speechless  and  fainting,  in  the 
large  gloomy  hall.  The  young  girl  had  fallen, 
upon  a  stone  seat ;  the  old  servant  knelt  beside 
her  and  prayed  ;  Aubert  remained  erect,  watching 
his  betrothed.  Pale  lights  wandered  in  the  dark- 
ness, and  the  silence  was  only  broken  by  the  move- 
ments of  the  little  animals  which  range  among 
old  wood,  and  the  noise  of  which  marks  the  hours 
of  "  the  clock  of  death." 

When  daylight  came,  they  ventured  upon  the 
endless  staircase  which  wound  beneath  these 
ruined  masses  ;  for  two  hours  they  wandered  thus, 
without  meeting  a  living  soul,  and  hearing  only  a 
far-off  echo  responding  to  their  cries.  Sometimes 
they  found  themselves  buried  a  hundred  feet  be- 
low the  ground,  and  sometimes  they  reached  places 
whence  they  could  overlook  the  surrounding  moan- 
tains. 

Chance  brought  them  at  last  back  again  to  the 
vast  hall,  which  had  sheltered  them  during  this 
night  of  anguish.  It  was  no  longer  empty.  Mas- 
ter Zacharius  and  Pittonaccio  were  talking  there 
together,  the  one  upright  and  rigid  as  a  corpse, 
the  other  crouching  over  a  marble  table. 

Master  Zacharius,  when  he  perceived  Gerande, 
went  forward  and  took  her  by  the  hand,  and  led 
her  towards  Pittonaccio,  saying,  "Behold  your 
lord  and  master,  my  daughter.  Gerande,  behold 
your  husband ! " 


138  Mastei'  Zacharius. 

Gerande  shuddered  from  head  to  foot. 

"Never!"  cried  Aubert,  "for  she  is  my  be- 
trothed." 

"  Never  !  "  responded  Gerande,  like  a  plaintive 
echo. 

Pittonaccio  began  to  laugh. 

"  You  wish  me  to  die,  then  % "  exclaimed  the  old 
man.  "  There,  in  that  clock,  the  last  which  goes 
of  all  which  have  gone  from  my  hands,  my  life  is 
shut  up ;  and  this  man  tells  me,  '  When  I  have 
thy  davighter,  this  clock  shall  belong  to  thee.' 
And  this  man  will  not  adjust  it.  He  can  break 
it,  and  plunge  me  into  chaos.  Ah,  my  daughter, 
you  no  longer  love  me  !  " 

"  My  father  ! "  murmured  Gerande,  recovering 
consciousness. 

"  If  you  knew  what  I  have  suffered,  far  away 
from  this  principle  of  my  existence  !  "  resumed  the 
old  man.  Perhaps  its  springs  were  left  to  wear 
out,  its  wheels  to  get  clogged.  But  now,  in  my 
own  hands,  I  can  nourish  this  health  so  dear,  for  I 
must  not  die,  —  I,  the  great  watchmaker  of  Ge- 
neva. Look,  my  daughter,  how  these  hands  ad- 
vance with  certain  step.  See,  five  o'clock  is  about 
to  strike.  Listen  well,  and  look  at  the  maxim 
which  is  about  to  be  revealed." 

Five  o'clock  struck  with  a  noise  which  resounded 
sadly  in  Gerande's  soul,  and  these  words  aj^peared 
in  red  letters  :  — 

"you  must  eat  of  the  fruits  of  the  tree  01 

SCIENCE." 

Aubert  and  Gerande  looked  at  each  other  stupe 


Master  Zacharius.  139 

fied.  These  were  no  longer  the  pious  sayings  of 
the  CathoHc  watchmaker.  The  bi'eath  of  Satan 
must  have  passed  there.  But  Zacharius  paid  no 
attention  to  this,  and  resumed  :  — 

"Dost  thou  laear,  my  Gerande'?  I  hve,  I  still 
live  !  Listen  to  my  bi'eathing,  —  see  the  blood 
circulating  in  my  veins  !  No,  thou  wouldst  not 
kill  thy  father,  and  thou  wilt  accept  this  man  for 
thy  husband,  so  that  I  may  become  immortal,  and 
at  last  attain  the  power  of  God  !  " 

At  these  blasphemous  words  old  Scholastique 
crossed  herself,  and  Pittonaccio  laughed  aloud 
with  joy. 

"  And  then,  Gerande,  thou  wilt  be  happy  with 
him.  See  this  man,  —  he  is  Time  !  Thy  existence 
will  be  regulated  with  absolute  precision.  Gerande, 
since  I  gave  thee  life,  give  life  to  thy  father !  " 

"  Gerande,"  murmured  Aubert,  "  I  am  thy  be- 
trothed." 

"  He  is  my  father  !  "  replied  Gerande,  fainting. 
"  She  is  thine  !  "  said  IMaster  Zacharius.     "  Pit- 
tonaccio, thou  wilt  keep  thy  promise  ! " 

"  Here  is  the  key  of  the  clock,"  replied  the  hor- 
rible man. 

Master  Zacharius  seized  the  long  key,  which 
resembled  an  uncoiled  snake,  and  ran  to  the  clock, 
which  he  hastened  to  wind  up  with  fantastic  ra- 
pidity. The  creaking  of  the  spring  jarred  upon 
the  nerves.  Tiie  old  watchmaker  wound  and 
wound  the  key,  without  stopping  a  moment,  and  it 
seemed  as  if  the  movement  were  beyond  his  control 
He  wound  more  and  more  quickly,  with  strange 
contortions,  until  he  fell  fi'om  sheer  weariness. 


140  Master  Zacharius. 

"  There  it  is,  wound  up  for  a  century ! "  he 
cried. 

Aubert  rushed  from  the  hall  as  if  he  were  mad. 
After  long  wandering,  he  found  the  outlet  of  the 
hateful  chateau,  and  hastened  into  the  open  air. 
He  returned  to  the  hermitage  of  Notre-Dame-du- 
Sex,  and  talked  so  desperately  to  the  holy  recluse, 
that  the  latter  consented  to  return  with  him  to 
the  chateau  of  Andematt. 

If,  dviring  these  hours  of  anguish,  Gerande  had 
not  wept,  it  was  because  her  tears  were  exhausted. 

Master  Zacharius  had  not  left  the  hall.  He 
ran  every  moment  to  listen  to  the  regular  beat- 
ing of  the  old  clock. 

Meanwhile  the  clock  had  struck,  and  to  Scho- 
lastique's  great  terror,  these  words  had  appeared 
on  the  silver  face  :  — 

"  MAN  OUGHT  TO  BECOME  THE  EQUAL  OF  GOD." 

The  old  man  had  not  only  not  been  shocked  by 
these  impious  maxims,  but  read  them  deliriously, 
and  was  pleased  with  these  thoughts  of  pride, 
whilst  Pittonaccio  kept  close  by  him. 

The  marriage-contract  was  to  be  signed  at  mid- 
night. Gerande,  almost  unconscious,  saw  or  heard 
nothing.  The  silence  was  only  broken  by  the 
old  man's  words,  and  the  chuckling  of  Pittonaccio. 

Eleven  o'clock  struck.  Master  Zacharius  shud- 
dered, and  read  in  a  loud  voice  :  — 

"man  SHOULD  BE  THE  SLAVE  OF  SCIENCE,  AND 
SACRIFICE    TO    IT    RELATIVES    AND    FAMILY." 

"  Yes  ! "  he  cried,  "  there  is  nothing  but  science 
in  this  world  !  " 


Master  Zacharius.  141 

The  hands  shpped  over  the  face  of  the  clock 
with  the  hiss  of  a  serpent,  and  the  movement  beat 
with  accelerated  strokes. 

Master  Zacharius  no  longer  spoke.  He  had 
fallen  to  the  floor,  he  rattled,  and  from  his  op- 
pressed bosom  came  only  these  half-broken  -words  : 
"  Life  —  science  !  " 

The  scene  had  now  two  new  witnesses,  the  her- 
mit and  Ax;bert.  Master  Zacharius  lay  upon  the 
floor ;  Gerande  was  praying  beside  him,  more  dead 
than  alive. 

Of  a  sudden  a  dry,  hard  noise  was  heard,  pro- 
ceeding from  the  striking-apparatus. 

Master  Zacharius  sprang  up. 

"  Midnight  !  "  he  cried. 

The  hermit  stretched  out  his  hand  towards  the 
old  watchmaker,  —  and  midnight  did  not  sound. 

Master  Zacharius  uttered  a  terrible  cry,  wheu 
these  words  appeared  :  — 

"  WHOEVER  SHALL  ATTEMPT  TO  MAKE  HIMSELF  THE 
EQUAL  OF  GOD  SHALL  BE  FOREVER  DAMNED  !  " 

The  old  clock  burst  with  a  noise  like  thunder, 
and  the  spring,  escaping,  leaped  across  the  hall 
with  a  thousand  fantastic  contortions;  the  old 
man  rose,  ran  after  it,  trying  in  vain  to  seize  it, 
and  exclaiming,  "  My  soul,  —  my  soul  !  " 

The  spring  bounded  before  him,  first  on  one 
side,  then  on  the  other,  and  he  could  not  reach  it. 

At  last  Pittonaccio  seized  it,  and,  uttering  a 
horrible  blasphemy,  ingulfed  himself  in  the  earth. 

Master  Zacharius  fell  over.     He  was  dead. 


142  Master  Zacharius. 

The  old  watchmaker  was  buried  in  the  midst 
of  the  peaks  of  Andernatt. 

Then  Aubert  and  Gerande  returned  to  Geneva, 
and  during  the  long  life  which  God  accorded  to 
them,  they  imposed  it  on  themselves  to  redeem  by 
prayer  the  soul  of  the  castaway  of  science. 


A  DRAMA  IN  THE  AIR. 


N  the  month  of  September,  185-  I 
arrived  at  Frankfort-on-the-Main.  My 
passage  through  the  principal  German 
cities  had  been  brilliantly  marked  by 
aerial  ascents  ;  but  as  yet  no  German  had  accom- 
panied me  in  my  car,  and  the  fine  experiments 
made  at  Paris  by  MM.  Green,  Eugene  Godard, 
and  Poitevin  had  not  tempted  the  gi'ave  Teutons 
to  essay  aerial  voyages. 

Meanwhile,  scarcely  had  the  news  of  my  ap- 
proaching ascent  spread  through  Frankfort,  than 
three  of  the  principal  citizens  begged  the  favor 
of  being  allowed  to  ascend  with  me.  Two  days 
afterwards  we  were  to  rise  from  the  Place  de  la 
Comedie.  I  began  at  once  to  get  my  balloon 
ready.  It  was  of  silk,  prepared  with  gutta- 
percha, a  substance  impermeable  by  acids  or 
gases ;  and  its  volume,  which  was  three  thousand 
cubic  yards,  enabled  it  to  ascend  to  the  loftiest 
heights. 

The  day  of  the  ascent  was  that  of  the  great 
September  fair,  which  attracts  so  many  people  to 
Frankfort.     Lighting  gas,  of  a  perfect  quality  and 


144  A  Drama  in  the  Air. 

a  vast* ascensional  force,  had  been  furnished  to  me 
in  excellent  condition,  and  about  eleven  o'clock 
the  balloon  was  filled  ;  but  only  three  quarters 
filled,  —  an  indispensable  pi'ecaution,  as,  while  one 
rises,  the  atmospheric  strata  diminish  in  density, 
and  the  fluid  enclosed  beneath  the  bands  of  the 
balloon,  acquiring  more  elasticity,  might  burst 
its  sides.  My  calculations  had  furnished  me  with 
exactly  the  quantity  of  gas  necessary  to  carry  up 
my  companions  and  myself 

We  were  to  start  at  noon.  A  magnificent  scene 
was  that  of  the  impatient  crowd  which  pressed 
around  the  enclosed  space,  inundating  the  entire 
square,  overflowing  into  the  contiguous  streets, 
and  covering  the  houses  from  the  ground-floor  to 
the  slated  gables.  The  high  winds  of  the  pre- 
ceding days  had  subsided.  An  oppressive  heat 
fell  from  the  cloudless  sky.  Scarce!}^  a  breath 
animated  the  atmosphere.  In  such  weather,  one 
might  descend  again  upon  the  very  spot  whence 
he  had  risen. 

I  carried  three  hundred  pounds  of  ballast  in 
bags  ;  the  car,  quite  round,  four  feet  in  diameter, 
was  comfortably  established  ;  the  hempen  cords 
which  supported  it  stretched  symmetrically  over 
the  upper  hemisphere  of  the  balloon  ;  the  compass 
was  in  place,  the  barometer  suspended  in  the  circle 
which  united  the  supporting  cords,  and  the  anchor 
carefully  put  in  order.     We  might  now  ascend. 

Among  those  who  pressed  around  the  enclosure, 
I  remarked  a  young  man  with  a  pale  face  and 
agitated  features.  The  sight  of  him  impressed 
me.     He  was  an  eager  spectator  of  my  ascents, 


A  Drama  in  the  Air.  145 

whom  I  had  ah-eady  met  in  several  German  cities. 
With  an  uneasy  air,  he  closely  watched  the  curious 
machine,  as  it  lay  motionless  a  few  feet  above  the 
ground ;  and  he  remained  silent  among  those 
about  him. 

Twelve  o'clock  came.  The  moment  had  aiTived. 
My  travelling  companions  did  not  appear. 

I  sent  to  their  houses,  and  learned  that  one  had 
left  for  Hamburg,  another  for  Vienna,  and  the 
third  for  London.  Their  courage  had  failed  them 
at  the  moment  of  undertaking  one  of  those  ex- 
cursions which,  thanks  to  the  ability  of  modern 
aeronauts,  are  free  from  all  danger.  As  they 
formed,  in  some  sort,  a  part  of  the  programme  of 
the  day,  the  fear  had  seized  them  that  they  might 
be  forced  to  execute  it  faithfully,  and  they  had 
fled  far  fi'ora  the  scene  at  the  instant  when  the 
balloon  was  being  filled.  Their  courage  was  evi- 
dently in  the  inverse  ratio  of  the  square  of  their 
agility  —  in  decamping. 

The  multitude,  half  deceived,  showed  not  a  little 
ill-humor.  I  did  not  hesitate  to  ascend  alone.  In 
order  to  re-establish  the  equilibrium  between  the 
specific  weight  of  the  balloon  and  the  weight 
which  had  thus  proved  wanting,  I  replaced  my 
companions  by  moi'e  sacks  of  sand,  and  got  into 
the  car.  The  twelve  men  who  held  the  balloon 
by  twelve  cords  fastened  to  the  equatorial  circle 
let  them  slip  a  little  between  their  fingers,  and 
the  balloon  rose  several  feet  higher.  There  was 
not  a  breath  of  wind,  and  the  atmosphere,  leaden 
in  its  weight,  seemed  to  forbid  the  ascent. 

"  Is  everything  readv*?  "  I  cried. 

7  "  J 


14:0  A  Drama  in  the  Air. 

The  men  arranged  themselves.  A  last  glance 
apprised  me  that  I  might  go. 

"  Attention ! " 

There  was  a  movement  in  the  crowd,  which 
seemed  to  be  invading  the  enclosure. 

"  Let  go  !  " 

The  balloon  rose  slowly,  but  I  experienced  a 
commotion  which  threw  me  to  the  bottom  of  the 
car. 

When  I  got  up,  I  found  myself  face  to  face  with 
an  unexpected  fellow-voyager,  —  the  pale  young- 
man. 

"  Monsieur,  I  salute  you,"  said  he,  with  the 
utmost  coolness. 

"  By  what  right  —  " 

"  Am  I  here  ]  By  the  right  which  the  impossi- 
bility of  your  getting  rid  of  me  confers." 

I  was  amazed  !  This  calmness  put  me  out  of 
countenance,  and  I  had  nothing  to  reply.  I  looked 
at  the  intruder,  but  he  took  no  notice  of  my 
astonishment. 

"  Does  my  weight  disarrange  your  equilibrium, 
monsieur]"  he  asked.      "You  will  pemnit  me  —  " 

And,  without  waiting  for  my  consent,  he  relieved 
the  balloon  of  two  bags,  which  he  threw  into  space. 

"  Monsieur,"  said  I,  taking  the  only  course  now 
possible,  "  you  have  come  ;  very  well,  you  will 
remain  ;  but  to  me  alone  belongs  the  management 
of  the  balloon." 

"Monsieur,"  said  he,  "your  urbanity  is  French 
all  over.  It  is  of  my  own  land.  I  morally  press  the 
hand  you  refuse  me.  Take  your  measures,  and  act 
as  seems  best  to  you.  I  will  wait  till  you  have 
done  —  " 


A  Drama  in  the  Air.  147 

"  For  what  % " 

"  To  talk  with  you." 

The  barometer  had  fallen  to  twenty-six  inches. 
We  were  nearly  six  hundred  yards  above  the  city; 
but  nothing  betrayed  the  horizontal  displacement 
of  the  balloon,  for  the  mass  of  air  in  which  it  is 
enclosed  goes  forward  with  it.  A  sort  of  confused 
glow  bathed  the  objects  spread  out  under  us,  and 
lent  a  to-be-regretted  uncertainty  to  their  shapes. 

I  examined  my  companion  anew. 

He  was  a  man  of  thirty  years,  simply  clad.  The 
sharpness  of  his  features  betrayed  an  indomitable 
energy,  and  he  seemed  very  muscular.  Indiffer- 
ent to  the  astonishment  he  created,  he  remained 
motionless,  trying  to  distinguish  the  objects  which 
were  vaguely  confounded  together  below  us. 

"  Miserable  mist  !  "  said  he,  after  a  few  mo- 
ments. 

I  did  not  reply. 

"  You  are  angry  with  me  1 "  he  went  on.  "  Bah  ! 
I  could  not  pay  for  my  journey,  and  it  was  neces^ 
sary  to  take  you  by  surprise." 

"  Nobody  asks  you  to  descend,  monsieur  !  " 

"  Eh,  do  you  not  know,  then,  that  the  same 
thing  happened  to  the  Counts  of  Laurencin  and 
Dampicrre,  when  they  ascended  at  Lyons,  on  the 
15th  of  January,  1784  1,  A  young  merchant, 
named  Fontaine,  scaled  the  gallery,  at  the  risk 
of  capsizing  the  machine.  He  accomplished  the 
journey,  and  nobody  died  of  it  !  " 

"  Once  on  the  ground,  we  will  have  an  explana- 
tion," replied  I,  piqued  at  the  light  tone  in  which 
he  spoke. 


148  A  Drama  in  the  Air. 

"  Bah  !     Do  not  let  us  think  of  our  return." 

"Do  you  think,  then,  that  I  shall  not  hasten  to 
descend  ] " 

"  Descend  !  "  said  he,  in  surprise.  "  Descend  1 
Let  us  begin  by  first  ascending." 

And  before  I  could  prevent  it,  two  more  bags 
had  been  thrown  over  the  car,  without  even  hav- 
ing been  emptied. 

"  Monsieur  !  "  cried  I,  in  a  rage. 

"  I  know  your  ability,"  replied  the  unknown, 
quietly,  "  and  your  fine  ascents  are  famous. 
But  if  Experience  is  the  sister  of  Practice,  she  is 
also  a  cousin  of  Theory,  and  I  have  studied  the 
aerial  art  long.  It  has  gone  to  my  head  !  "  he 
added  sadly,   falling  into  a  silent  revery. 

The  balloon,  having  risen  some  distance  farther, 
now  became  stationary.  The  unknown  consulted 
the  barometer,  and  said  :  — 

"  Here  we  are,  at  eight  hundred  yards.  Men 
are  like  insects.  See  !  I  think  we  slaould  always 
contemplate  them  from  this  height,  to  judge  well 
of  their  proportions.  The  Place  de  la  Comedie  is 
transformed  into  an  immense  ant-hill.  Observe 
the  crowd  which  is  gathered  on  the  quays ;  and 
the  mountains.  We  are  over  the  Cathedral.  The 
Main  is  only  a  line,  cutting  the  cit}^  in  two,  and 
the  bridge  seems  a  thread  thrown  between  the 
two  banks  of  the  river." 

The  atmosphere  became  somewhat  chilly. 

"  There  is  nothing  I  would  not  do  for  you,  my 
host,"  said  the  unknown.  "  If  you  are  cold,  I  will 
take  off  my  coat  and  lend  it  to  you." 

"  Thanks,"  said  I,  dryly. 


A  Drama  in  the  Air.  149 

"  Bah  !  Necessity  makes  law.  Give  me  your 
hand.  I  am  your  fellow-covmtryman  :  you  will  learn 
something  in  vnj  company,  and  mj-  conversation 
■will  reward  you  for  the  trouble  I  have  given  you." 

I  sat  down,  without  replying,  at  the  opposite 
extremity  of  the  car.  The  young  man  had  taken 
a  voluminous  manuscript  from  his  great-coat.  It 
was  an  essay  on  ballooning. 

"  I  possess,"  said  he,  "  the  most  curious  collec- 
tion of  engravings  and  caricatures  extant  concern- 
ing aerial  manias.  How  people  at  once  admired 
and  scoffed  at  this  precious  discovery !  We  are 
happily  no  longer  in  the  age  in  which  Montgolfier 
tried  to  make  artificial  clouds  with  vapor,  or  a  gas 
having  electrical  properties,  produced  by  the  com- 
bustion of  moist  straw  and  chopped-up  wool." 

"  Do  you  wish  to  lessen  the  merit  of  the  inven- 
tors 1 "  I  asked,  for  I  had  resolved  to  enter  into 
the  adventure.  "  Was  it  not  good  to  have  proved 
by  experience  the  possibility  of  rising  in  the 
air?" 

"  Ah,  monsieiu-,  who  denies  the  glory  of  the  first 
aerial  navigators  %  It  required  immense  courage  to 
rise  by  means  of  those  frail  envelopes  which  only 
contained  heated  air.  But  I  ask  you.  Has  the 
aerial  science  made  great  progress  since  Blanchard's 
ascensions,  that  is,  since  nearly  a  century  ago  ? 
Look  here,  monsieur." 

The  unknown  took  an  engraving  from  his  port- 
folio. 

"Here,"  said  lie,  "is  the  first  aerial  voyage  un- 
dertaken by  Pilatre  des  Hosiers  and  the  j\Iarquis 
d'Arlandes,  four  months  after  the  discovery  of  bal- 


150  A  Drama  in  the  Air. 

loous.  Louis  XVI.  refused  to  consent  to  the  ven- 
ture, and  two  men  who  were  condemned  to  death 
were  first  to  attempt  the  aerial  ascent.  Pilatre  des 
Hosiers  became  indignant  at  this  injustice,  and,  by 
means  of  intrigues,  obtained  permission  to  make 
the  experiment.  The  cai',  which  renders  the  man- 
agement easy,  had  not  then  been  invented,  and  a 
circular  gallery  was  placed  around  the  lower  and 
contracted  part  of  the  Montgolfier  balloon.  The 
two  aeronauts  must  then  remain  motionless  at 
each  extremity  of  this  gallery,  for  the  moist  straw 
which  encumbered  it  forbade  them  all  motion.  A 
chafing-dish  with  fire  was  suspended  below  the 
orifice  of  the  balloon  ;  when  the  aeronauts  wished 
to  rise,  they  threw  straw  upon  this  brazier,  at  the 
risk  of  setting  fire  to  the  balloon,  and  the  air,  more 
heated,  gave  it  a  new  ascending  force.  The  two 
bold  travellers  rose,  on  the  21st  of  November, 
1783,  from  the  Muette  Gardens,  which  the  dau- 
phin had  put  at  their  disposal.  The  balloon  went 
up  majestically,  passed  over  the  Isle  of  Swans, 
crossed  the  Seine  at  the  Conference  barrier,  and, 
drifting  between  the  dome  of  the  Invalides  and 
the  Military  School,  approached  the  Church  of 
Saint  Sulpice.  Then  the  aeronauts  added  to  the. 
fire,  crossed  the  Boulevard,  and  descended  beyond 
the  Enfer  barrier.  As  it  touched  the  soil,  the  bal- 
loon collapsed,  and  for  a  few  moments  buried 
Pilatre  des  Rosiers  under  its  folds." 

"  Unlucky  augury,"  I  said,  interested  in  the 
story,  which  afi'ected  me  nearly. 

"  An  augui-y  of  the  catastrophe  which  was  later 
to  cost  this  unfoi-tunate  man  his  life,"  replied  the 


A  Drama  in  the  Air.  151 

unknown,  sadly.      "  You  have   never  experienced 
one  like  it  ? " 

"  Never." 

"  Bah  !  ^lisfortunes  sometimes  occur  unfore- 
shadowed  !  "  added  my  companion. 

He  then  remained  silent. 

We  were  advancing  southward,  and  Frankfort 
had  already  passed  from  beneath  us. 

"  Perhaps  we  shall  have  a  storm,"  said  the 
young  man. 

"  We  shall  descend  before  that,"  I  replied. 

"  Indeed !  It  is  better  to  ascend.  We  shall 
escape  it  more  surely." 

And  two  more  bags  of  sand  were  hurled  into 
space. 

The  balloon  rose  rapidly,  and  stopped  at  twelve 
Imndred  yards.  It  became  colder  ;  and  yet  the 
sun's  rays  falling  upon  the  surface,  expanded  the 
gas  within,  and  gave  it  a  greater  ascending  force. 

"  Fear  nothing,"  said  the  unknown.  "  We  have 
still  three  thousand  five  hundred  toises  of  breath- 
ing air.  Besides,  do  not  trouble  yourself  about 
what  I  do." 

1  would  have  risen,  but  a  vigorous  hand  held 
me  to  my  sent. 

"  Your  name  1     I  asked. 

'•'  My  name  1     What  matters  it  to  you  T' 

"  I  demand  your  name  !  " 

"  My  name  is  Erostratus  or  Empedocles,  which- 
ever you  choose." 

This  reply  was  far  from  reassuring. 

The  unknown,  besides,  talked  with  such  strange 
coolness  that  I  anxiously  asked  myself  with  whom 
I  had  to  deal. 


152  A  Drama  in  the  Air. 

"  Monsievir,"  he  continued,  "  nothing  original 
has  been  imagined  since  the  philosopher  Charles. 
Four  months  after  the  discovery  of  balloons,  this 
able  man  had  invented  the  valve,  which  permits 
the  gas  to  escape  when  the  balloon  is  too  full,  or 
when  you  wish  to  descend  ;  the  car,  which  aids 
the  management  of  the  machine ;  the  netting, 
which  holds  the  envelope  of  the  balloon,  and 
divides  the  weight  over  its  whole  surface  ;  the 
ballast,  which  enables  you  to  ascend,  and  to 
choose  the  place  of  your  land-fall  ;  the  india- 
rubber  coating,  which  renders  the  tissue  imperme- 
able ;  the  barometer,  which  shows  the  height 
attained.  Lastly,  Charles  used  hydrogen,  which, 
fourteen  times  lighter  than  air,  permits  you  to 
penetrate  to  the  highest  atmospheric  strata,  and 
does  not  expose  you  to  the  dangers  of  a  combus- 
tion in  the  air.  On  the  1st  of  December,  1783, 
three  hundred  thousand  spectators  were  crowded 
around  the  Tuileries.  Charles  rose,  and  the 
soldiers  presented  arms  to  him.  He  travelled 
nine  leagues  in  the  air,  conducting  his  balloon 
with  an  ability  not  surpassed  by  modern  aero- 
nauts. The  king  awarded  him  a  pension  of  two 
thousand  livres  ;  for  then  they  encouraged  new 
inventions." 

The  unknown  now  seemed  to  be  under  the  in- 
fluence of  considerable  agitation. 

"  Monsieur,"  he  resumed,  "  I  have  studied  this, 
and  I  am  convinced  that  the  first  aeronauts  guided 
their  balloons.  Without  speaking  of  Blanchard, 
whose  assertions  may  be  received  with  doubt, 
Guyton-Morveaux,  by  the  aid  of  oars  and  rudder, 


A  Drama  in  the  Aii\  153 

impressed  palpable  movements  and  a  distinct  di- 
rection upon  his  machine.  More  recently,  M. 
Julien,  a  watchmaker,  made  some  convincing  ex- 
periments at  the  Hippodrome,  in  Paris  ;  for, 
thanks  to  a  special  mechanism,  his  aerial  appa- 
ratus, oblong  in  form,  went  visibly  against  the 
wind.  It  occurred  to  ]\1.  Petin  to  place  four 
hydrogen  balloons  together ;  and,  by  means  of 
sails  disposed  horizontally  and  partly  folded,  he 
hopes  to  obtain  a  rupture  of  equilibrium  which, 
inclining  the  apparatus,  will  convey  to  it  an 
oblique  direction.  They  speak,  also,  of  moving- 
powers  for  surmounting  the  resistance  of  currents, 
—  for  instance,  the  screw  ;  but  the  screw,  operat- 
ing in  a  movable  centre,  will  give  no  result.  I, 
■  monsieur,  have  discovered  the  only  means  of 
guiding  balloons  ;  and  no  academy  has  come  to 
my  aid,  no  city  has  filled  up  subscriptions  for  me, 
no  government  has  thought  fit  to  listen  to  me  ! 
It  is  infamous  !  " 

The  unknown  gesticulated  fiercely,  and  the  car 
underwent  violent  oscillations.  I  had  much  trouble 
in  calming  him. 

Meanwhile  the  balloon  had  struck  a  more  rapid 
current,  and  we  advanced  towards  the  south  at 
fifteen  hundred  yards  in  height. 

"  See,  there  is  Darmstadt,"  said  my  companion, 
leaning  over  the  car.  "  Do  you  perceive  the 
chateau  ]  Not  very  distinctly,  eh  ?  What  would 
you  have  1  The  heat  of  the  stoim  makes  the  form 
of  objects  waver,  and  you  must  have  a  keen  eye 
to  recognize  localities." 

"  Are  you  certain  it  is  Darmstadt  ] "  I  asked. 


154  A  Drama  in  the  Air. 

"  I  am  sure  of  it.     We  ai*e  now  six  leagues  from 

Frankfort." 

"  Then  we  must  descend." 

"  Descend  !  Yon  would  not  go  down  on  the 
steeples,"  said  the  unknown  with  a  chuckle. 

"  No,  but  in  the  suburbs  of  the  city." 

"  Well,  let  us  avoid  the  steeples  !  " 

So  speaking,  my  companion  seized  some  bags 
of  ballast.  I  hastened  to  prevent  him ;  but  he 
overthrew  me  with  one  hand,  and  the  unballasted 
balloon  ascended  to  two  thousand  yards. 

"  Rest  easy,"  said  he,  "  and  do  not  forget  that 
Brioschi,  Biot,  Gay-Lussac,  Bisio,  and  Barral  as- 
cended to  still  greater  heights  to  make  their  sci- 
entific experiments." 

"  Monsieni*,  we  must  descend,"  I  resumed,  try- 
ing to  persuade  him  by  gentleness.  "  The  storm 
is  gathering  around  us.  It  would  be  more  pru- 
dent —  " 

"  Bah  !  We  will  mount  higher  than  the  storm, 
and  then  we  shall  no  longer  fear  it  !  "  cried  my 
companion.  "  What  is  nobler  tiian  to  overlook 
the  clouds  which  oppress  the  earth  1  Is  it  not  an 
honor  thus  to  navigate  on  aerial  billows  1  The 
greatest  personages  have  travelled  as  we  are  doing. 
The  Marchioness  and  Countess  de  Montalembert, 
the  Countess  of  Podenas,  Mademoiselle  la  Garde, 
the  Marquis  de  Montalembert,  rose  from  the  Fau- 
bourg Saint-Antoine  for  these  unknown  regions, 
and  the  Duke  de  Charti'es  exhibited  much  skill 
and  presence  of  mind  in  his  ascent  on  the  15th  of 
July,  1784.  At  Lyons,  the  Counts  of  Laurencin 
and  Dampierre ;   at  Nantes,  M.    de    Luynes ;   at 


A  Drama  in  the  Air.  155 

Bordeaux,  D'Arbelet  des  Granges  ;  in  Italy,  the 
Chevalier  Andreani  ;  in  our  own  time,  the  Duke 
of  Brunswick,  —  have  all  left  the  traces  of  their 
glory  in  the  air.  To  equal  these  great  personages, 
we  must  penetrate  still  higher  than  they  into  the 
celestial  depths.  To  approach  the  infinite  is  to 
comprehend  it ! " 

The  rarefaction  of  the  air  was  fast  expanding  the 
hydrogen  in  the  balloon,  and  1  saw  its  lower  part, 
purposely  left  empty,  swell  out,  so  that  it  was 
absolutely  necessary  to  open  the  valve ;  but  my 
companion  did  not  seem  to  intend  that  I  should 
manage  the  balloon  as  I  wished.  I  then  resolved 
to  pull  the  valve-cord  secretly,  as  he  was  excitedly 
talking ;  for  I  feared  to  guess  who  this  man  was. 
It  would  have  been  too  horrible  !  It  was  nearly  a 
quarter  before  one.  We  had  been  gone  forty  min- 
utes fi'om  Frankfort ;  heavy  clouds  were  coming 
against  the  wind  from  the  south,  and  seemed 
about  to  burst  upon  us. 

"  Have  you  lost  all  hope  of  succeeding  in  your 
pi'oject  ] "  I  asked  with  anxious  interest. 

"  All  hope  !  "  exclaimed  the  unknown,  in  a  low 
voice.  "  Wounded  by  slights  and  caricatures, 
these  asses'  kicks  have  finished  me  !  It  is  the 
eternal  punishment  reserved  for  innovators  !  Look 
at  these  caricatures  of  all  periods,  of  which  my 
portfolio  is  full." 

While  my  companion  was  fumbling  with  his 
papers,  I  had  seized  the  valve-cord  without  his 
perceiving  it.  I  feared,  however,  thoi  he  might 
hear  the  hissing  noise,  like  a  wate^'fall,  which  the 
gas  makes  in  escaping. 


156  A  Drama  in  the  Air. 

"■  How  many  jokes  were  made  about  the  Abbe 
Miolan  ! "  said  he.  "  He  was  to  go  up  with  Jan- 
uinet  and  Bredin.  During  the  filling,  their  bal- 
loon caught  fire,  and  the  ignoi'ant  populace  tore  it 
in  pieces  !  Then  this  caricature  of  '  curious  ani- 
mals '  appeared,  giving  each  of  them  a  suggestive 
nickname." 

I  pulled  the  valve-cord,  and  the  barometer  be- 
gan to  ascend.  It  was  time.  Some  far-off  rum- 
blings were  heard  in  the  south. 

"  Here  is  another  engraving,"  resumed  the  un- 
known, not  suspecting  what  I  was  doing.  "  It  is 
an  immense  balloon  carrying  a  ship,  strong  castles, 
houses,  and  so  on.  The  caricaturists  did  not  sus- 
pect that  their  follies  would  one  day  become 
truths.  It  is  complete,  this  large  vessel  ;  on  the 
left  is  its  elm,  with  the  pilot's  box ;  at  the  prow 
are  pleasure-houses,  an  immense  organ,  and  a  can- 
non to  call  the  attention  of  the  inhabitants  of  the 
earth  or  the  moon ;  above  the  poop,  there  ax'e 
the  observatory  and  the  long-boat ;  in  the  equato- 
rial circle,  the  army  barrack  ;  on  the  left,  the  fun- 
nel, and  the  upper  galleries  for  promenading,  sails, 
pinions  ;  below,  the  cafes  and  general  storehouse. 
Observe  this  pompous  announcement  :  '  Invented 
for  the  happiness  of  the  human  race,  this  globe  will 
depart  at  once  for  the  ports  of  the  Levant,  and  on 
its  return  the  programme  of  its  voyages  to  the  two 
poles  and  the  extreme  west  will  be  announced. 
No  one  need  furnish  himself  with  anything; 
everything  is  foreseen  and  provided  for.  There 
will  be  a  uniform  price  for  all  places  of  destina- 
tion, but  it  will  be  the  same  for  the  most  distant 


A  Drama  in  the  Air.  157 

countries  of  our  hemisphere  ;  that  is  to  say,  a 
thousand  loiiis  for  any  one  of  the  said  journeys. 
And  it  must  be  confessed  that  this  sum  is  very 
moderate,  when  the  speed,  comfort,  and  arrange- 
ments which  will  be  enjoyed  on  the  balloon  are 
considered,  —  arrangements  which  are  not  to  be 
found  on  land,  while  on  the  balloon  each  passen- 
ger may  consult  his  own  habits  and  tastes.  This 
is  so  true,  that  in  the  same  place  some  will  be 
dancing,  others  standing;  some  will  be  enjoying 
luxuries,  others  fasting ;  whoever  desires  the  soci- 
ety of  wits  may  satisfy  himself;  whoever  is  stu- 
pid, may  find  stupid  people  to  keep  him  company. 
Thus  pleasure  will  be  the  soul  of  the  aerial  com- 
pany.' All  this  provoked  laughter.  But  before  long, 
if  I  am  not  cut  off,  they  will  see  it  all  reahzed." 

We  wei-e  visibly  descending.  He  did  not  per- 
ceive it ! 

"  This  kind  of  game  of  balloons,"  he  resumed, 
spreading  out  before  me  some  of  the  engravings 
of  his  valuable  collection  —  "  this  game  contains 
the  entire  history  of  the  aerostatic  art.  It  is  used 
by  elevated  minds,  and  is  played  with  dice  and 
counters,  with  whatever  stakes  one  wishes,  to  be 
paid  or  received  according  to  where  the  player  ar- 
rives." 

"  Why,"  said  I,  "  you  seem  to  have  studied  the 
science  of  aerostation  profoundly." 

"  Yes,  monsieur,  yes !  From  Phaeton,  Icarus, 
Architas,  I  have  searched  for,  examined,  learned 
everything.  I  could  render  immense  services  to 
the  world  in  this  art,  if  God  gi-anted  me  life.  But 
that  will  not  be  !  " 


158  A  Drama  in  the  Air, 

"Why?" 

"  Because  my  name  is  Empedocles,  or  Erostra- 
tus." 

Meanwhile  the  balloon  was  happily  approaching 
the  earth ;  but  when  one  is  foiling,  the  danger  is 
as  great  at  a  hundred  feet  as  at  five  thousand. 

"  Do  you  recall  the  battle  of  Fleurus  1 "  resumed 
my  companion,  whose  face  became  more  and  more 
animated.  "  It  was  at  that  battle  that  Contello, 
by  order  of  the  govei'nment,  organized  a  company 
of  balloonists.  At  the  siege  of  Maubeurge,  General 
Jourdan  derived  so  much  service  from  this  new 
method  of  observation,  that  Contello  ascended 
twice  a  day  with  the  general  himself.  The  com- 
munications between  the  aeronaut  and  his  agents 
who  held  the  balloon  were  made  by  means  of  small 
white,  red,  and  yellow  flags.  Often  gun  and 
cannon  shot  were  directed  upon  the  balloon  when 
he  ascended,  but  without  result.  When  General 
Joui'dan  was  preparing  to  invest  Charleroi,  Con- 
tello went  into  the  vicinity,  ascended  from  the 
plain  of  Jumet,  and  continued  his  observations  for 
seven  or  eight  hours  with  General  Morlot ;  and 
this  no  doubt  aided  in  giving  us  the  victory  of 
Fleurus.  General  Jourdan  publicly  acknowledged 
the  help  which  the  aeronautical  observations  had 
afforded  him.  Well,  despite  the  services  rendered 
on  that  occasion  and  during  the  Belgian  campaign, 
the  year  which  had  seen  the  beginning  of  the  mili- 
tary career  of  balloons,  saw  also  its  end.  The 
school  of  Meiidon,  founded  by  the  government,  was 
closed  by  Bonaparte  on  his  return  from  Egypt. 
And  yet,  what  can  yovi  expect  from  the  new-born 


A  Drama  in  the  Air.  159 

infant  ?  as  Franklin  said.  The  infant  was  born 
viable,  it  should  not  be  stifled  ! " 

The  unknown  bowed  his  head  in  his  hands,  and 
reflected  for  some  moments.  Then  raising  his 
head,  he  said,  — 

"  Despite  my  prohibition,  monsieur,  you  have 
opened  the  valve." 

I  let  the  cord  go. 

"Happil}^,"  he  resumed,  "we  have  still  three 
hundred  pounds  of  ballast." 

"  What  is  your  purpose  1 "  said  I. 

"Have  you  never  crossed  the  seas'?"  he  asked. 

I  tm-ned  pale. 

"  It  is  unfortunate,"  he  went  on,  "that  we  are 
being  driven  towards  the  Adriatic.  That  is  but  a 
stream.  But  higher  up  we  may  find  other  cur- 
rents." 

And,  without  taking  any  notice  of  me,  he  threw 
over  several  bags  of  sand.  Then,  in  a  menacing 
voice,  he  said,  — 

"I  let  you  open  the  valve  because  the  expansion 
of  the  gas  threatened  to  burst  the  balloon.  But 
do  not  do  it  again  ! " 

Then  he  went  on  as  follows  :  — 

"You  remember  the  voyage  of  Blanchard  and 
Jeffi'ies  from  Dover  to  Calais'?  It  was  magnifi- 
cent !  On  the  7th  of  January,  1785,  there  being 
a  northwest-wind,  their  balloon  was  inflated  with 
gas  on  the  Dover  coast.  A  mistake  of  equilibrium, 
just  as  they  were  ascending,  forced  them  to  throw 
out  their  ballast  so  that  they  might  not  go  down 
again,  and  they  only  kept  thirty  pounds.  It  was 
too  little  J  for,  as  the  wind  did  not  freshen,  they 


160  A  Drama  in  the  Air. 

only  advanced  very  slowly  towards  the  French 
coast.  Besides,  the  permeability  of  the  tissue 
served  to  reduce  the  inflation  somewhat,  and  in  an 
hour  and  a  half  the  aeronauts  perceived  that  they 
were  descending. 

"  '  What  shall  we  do  1'  said  Jeffries. 

"  '  Wo  are  only  one  quarter  of  the  way  over,'  re- 
plied Blanchard,  '  and  very  low  down.  On  mount- 
ing, we  shall  perhaps  meet  more  favorable  winds.' 

"  '  Let  us  throw  out  the  rest  of  the  sand.' 

'*  The  balloon  acquired  some  ascending  force,  but 
it  soon  began  to  descend  again.  Towards  the 
middle  of  the  transit  the  aeronauts  threw  over 
their  books  and  tools.  A  quarter  of  an  hour  after, 
Blanchard  said  to  Jeffries,  — 

"  '  The  barometer]' 

"  '  It  is  going  up  !  We  are  lost,  and  yet  there  is 
the  French  coast.' 

"  A  loud  noise  was  heard. 

"  '  Has  the  balloon  burst  1 '   asked  Jeffries. 

"  '  No.  The  loss  of  the  gas  has  reduced  the  infla- 
tion of  the  lower  part  of  the  balloon.  But  we  are 
still  descending.  We  are  lost !  Out  with  every- 
thing useless ! ' 

"  Provisions,  oars,  and  rudder  were  thrown  into 
the  sea.  The  aeronauts  were  only  one  hundred 
yards  high. 

"  '  We  are  going  up  again,'  said  the  doctor. 

"  '  No.  It  is  the  spurt  caused  by  the  diminution 
of  the  weight ;  and  not  a  ship  iia  sight,  not  a  bark 
on  the  horizon  !     To  the  sea  with  our  clothing  ! ' 

"  The  unfortunates  despoiled  themselves,  but  the 
balloon  continued  to  descend. 


A  Drama  in  the  Air.  161 

"  '  Blanchard,'  said  JeiFries,  '  yoii  should  have 
made  this  voyage  alone ;  you  conseuted  to  take 
me  ;  I  will  saci-ifice  myself !  I  am  going  to  throw 
myself  into  the  water,  and  the  balloon,  reheved  of 
my  weight,  will  mount  again.' 

"  '  No,  no  !     It  is  frightful ! ' 

"  The  balloon  became  less  and  less  inflated,  and 
its  concavit}'  pressed  the  gas  against  the  sides  and 
hastened  its  downward  course. 

"  '  Adieu,  my  friend,'  said  the  doctor.  '  God  pre- 
serve you ! ' 

"  He  was  about  to  throw  himself  over,  when 
Blanchard  held  him  back. 

" '  There  remains  another  resource,'  said  he. 
*We  can  cut  the  cords  which  hold  the  car,  and 
cling  to  the  ropes  !  Perhaps  the  balloon  w'ill  rise. 
Let  us  hold  ourselves  ready.  But  —  the  barometer 
is  going  down  !  The  wind  is  freshening !  We  are 
saved  ! ' 

"  The  aeronauts  perceived  Calais.  Their  joy  was 
dehrious.  A  few  moments,  and  they  had  fallen  m 
the  forest  of  Guines.  I  do  not  doulot,"  added  the 
unknown,  "  that,  under  similar  circumstances,  a^ou 
would  have  followed  Doctor  Jeifries's  example." 

The  clouds  rolled  in  glittering  masses  beneath 
us.  The  balloon  threw  large  shadows  on  this  heap 
of  clouds,  and  was  surrounded  as  by  an  aureola. 
The  thunder  rumbled  below  the  cai*.  All  this  was 
terrifying. 

"  Let  us  descend  ! "  I  cried. 

"  Descend,  when  the  sun  is  there,  waiting  for 
us  1     Out  with  more  bags  !  " 

And  more  than  fifty  pounds  of  ballast  were  cast 
over. 


162  A  Drama  in  the  Air. 

At  a  height  of  three  thouscand  five  hundred 
yards,  we  remained  stationary. 

The  unknown  talked  unceasingly.  I  was  in  a 
state  of  complete  prostration,  whilst  he  seemed  to 
be  in  his  element. 

"  With  a  good  wind,  we  shall  go  far,"  he  cried. 
"  In  the  Antilles  there  are  currents  of  air  which 
have  a  speed  of  a  hundred  leagues  an  hour.  When 
Napoleon  was  crowned,  Garnerin  sent  up  a  balloon 
with  colored  glasses,  at  eleven  o'clock  at  night. 
The  wind  was  blowing  north-northwest.  The  next 
morning,  at  daybreak,  the  inhabitants  of  Rome 
greeted  its  passage  over  the  dome  of  St.  Peter's. 
We  shall  go  farther  and  higher  ! " 

I  scarcely  heard  him.  Everything  whirled 
around  me.     An  opening  appeared  in  the  clouds. 

"  See  that  city,"  said  the  unknown.  "It  is 
Spire  ! " 

I  leaned  over  the  car,  and  perceived  a  small 
blackish  mass.  It  was  Spire.  The  Rhine  seemed 
an  unrolled  ribbon.  The  sky  was  a  deep  blue  over 
our  heads.  The  birds  had  long  abandoned  us,  for 
in  that  rarefied  air  they  could  not  have  flown. 
We  were  alone  in  space,  and  I  in  presence  of  this 
unknown ! 

"  It  is  useless  for  you  to  know  whither  I  am 
leading  you,"  he  said,  as  he  threw  the  compass 
among  the  clouds.  "  You  know  that  but  few  vic- 
tims of  ballooning  are  to  be  reckoned,  from  Pilatre 
des  Rosiers  to  Lieutenant  Gale,  and  that  the  acci- 
dents have  always  been  the  result  of  imprudence. 
Pilatre  des  Rosiers  set  out  with  Remain  of  Bou- 
logne,  on  the   13th  of  June,   1785.     To  his  gas 


A  Drama  in  the  Air.  163 

balloon  he  had  affixed  a  Montgolfier  apparatus  of 
hot  ah',  so  as  to  dispense,  no  doubt,  with  the 
necessity  of  losing  gas  or  throwing  out  ballast. 
It  was  putting  a  torch  under  a  powder-barrel ! 
When  they  had  ascended  four  hundred  yards,  and 
were  taken  by  opposing  winds,  they  were  driven 
over  the  open  sea.  Pilatre,  in  order  to  descend, 
essaj^ed  to  open  the  valve,  but  the  valve-cord 
became  entangled  in  the  balloon,  and  tore  it  so 
badly  that  it  became  empty  in  an  instant.  It  fell 
upon  the  Montgolfier  apparatus,  overturned  it,  and 
dragged  down  the  unfortunates,  who  were  soon 
shattered  to  pieces.     It  is  frightful,  is  it  not  % " 

I  could  only  reply,  "  For  pity's  sake,  let  us  de- 
scend !  " 

The  clouds  gathered  around  us  on  every  side, 
and  dreadful  detonations,  which  reverberated  in 
the  cavity  of  the  balloon,  crossed  each  other  be- 
neath us. 

"  You  provoke  me,"  cried  the  unknown,  "  and 
you  shall  no  longer  know  whether  we  are  rising  or 
going  down  ! " 

The  barometer  went  the  way  of  the  compass, 
accompanied  by  several  more  bags  of  sand.  Some 
icicles  had  already  attached  themselves  to  the 
sides  of  the  car,  and  a  kind  of  fine  snow  seemed  to 
penetrate  to  my  very  bones.  Meanwhile  a  fright- 
ful tempest  was  raging  under  us. 

"  Do  not  be  afraid,"  said  the  unknown.  "It  is 
only  the  imprudent  who  are  lost.  Olivari,  who 
perished  at  Orleans,  rose  in  a  paper  '  Montgolfier' ; 
his  car,  suspended  below  the  chafing-dish,  and 
ballasted  with  combustible  materials,  caught  fire  ; 


164  A  Drama  in  the  Air. 

Olivari  fell,  and  was  killed.  Mosment  rose,  at 
Lille,  on  a  light  tray ;  an  oscillation  disturbed  his 
equilibrium ;  Mosment  fell,  and  was  killed.  Bit- 
torf,  at  Mannheim,  saw  his  balloon  catch  fire  in 
the  air ;  and  he,  too,  fell,  and  was  killed.  Harris 
rose  in  a  badly  constructed  balloon,  the  valve  of 
which  was  too  large  and  would  not  shut ;  Harris 
fell,  and  was  killed.  Sadler,  deprived  of  ballast 
by  his  long  sojourn  in  the  air,  was  dragged  over 
the  town  of  Boston  and  dashed  against  the  chim- 
neys ;  Sadler  fell,  and  was  killed.  Cokling  de- 
scended with  a  convex  parachute  which  he  pre- 
tended to  have  perfected ;  Cokling  fell,  and  was 
killed  I  Well,  I  love  them,  these  victims  of  their 
own  imprudence,  and  I  shall  die  as  they  did. 
Higher  !  still  higher  !  " 

All  the  phantoms  of  this  necrology  passed  be- 
fore my  eyes.  The  rarefaction  of  the  air  and  the 
sun's  rays  added  to  the  expansion  of  the  gas,  and 
the  balloon  continued  to  mount.  I  tried  mechan- 
ically to  open  the  valve,  but  the  unknown  cut  the 
cord  several  feet  above  my  head.     I  was  lost ! 

"  Did  you  see  Madame  Blanchard  fall  1 "  said 
he.  "  T  saw  her  ;  yes,  I !  I  was  at  Tivoli  on  the 
6th  of  July,  1819.  Madame  Blanchard  rose  in  a 
small-sized  balloon,  to  avoid  the  trouble  of  filling, 
and  she  was  foi'ced  to  entirely  inflate  it.  The  gas 
leaked  out  below,  and  left  a  real  train  of  hydrogen 
in  its  path.  She  carried  with  her  a  sort  of  pyro- 
technic aureola,  suspended  below  her  car  by  a 
wire,  which  she  was  to  set  off  in  the  air.  This  she 
had  done  many  times  before.  On  this  day  she 
also  carried  up  a  small  parachute  ballasted  with 


IfMf^p/yi 


A  Drama  in  the  Air.  165 

fireworks.  She  set  out;  the  night  was  gloomy. 
At  the  moment  of  lighting  her  fireworks,  she  was 
so  imprudent  as  to  pass  the  taper  under  the  col- 
umn of  hydrogen  which  was  leaking  from  the  bal- 
loon. INIy  eyes  were  fixed  upon  her.  I  thought 
she  was  preparing  a  surprise.  The  light  flashed 
out,  suddenly  disappeared  aiid  reappeared  at 
the  summit  of  the  balloon  in  the  shape  of  an  im- 
mense jet  of  ignited  gas.  This  sinister  glow  shed 
itself  over  the  Boulevard  and  the  whole  Mont- 
martre  quarter.  Then  I  saw  the  unliappy  woman 
rise,  tiy  twice  to  compress  the  appendage  of  the 
balloon,  so  as  to  put  out  the  fire,  then  sit  down  in 
her  car  and  try  to  guide  her  descent ;  for  she  did 
not  fall.  The  combustion  of  the  gas  lasted  for 
several  minutes.  The  balloon,  becoming  gradually 
less,  continued  to  descend,  but  it  was  not  a  fall. 
The  wind  blew  fi-om  the  northwest  and  drove  it 
towards  Paris.  There  were  then  some  large  gar- 
dens just  by  the  house  No.  16  Rue  de  Provence. 
IMadame  Blanchard  essayed  to  fall  there  without 
danger.  The  balloon  and  the  car  struck  on  the 
roof  of  the  house  with  a  light  shock.  '  Save  me  ! ' 
cried  the  wretched  woman.  I  got  into  the  street 
at  this  moment.  The  car  slid  along  the  roof,  and 
encountered  an  iron  cramp.  At  this  concussion, 
Madame  Blanchard  was  thrown  out  of  her  car  and 
precipitated  upon  the  pavement.     She  was  killed." 

These  stories  froze  me  with  horror.  The  un- 
known was  standing  with  bare  head,  dishevelled 
hair,  haggard  eyes ! 

There  was  no  longer  any  illusion  possible.  I  at 
last  recognized  the  horrible  truth.  I  was  in  the 
presence  of  a  madman ! 


166  A  Drama  in  the  Air. 

He  threw  out  the  rest  of  the  ballast,  and  we 
must  have  now  reached  a  height  of  at  least  nine 
thousand  yards.  Blood  spurted  from  my  nose 
and  mouth. 

"  Who  are  nobler  than  the  martyrs  of  science  1 " 
cried  the  lunatic.  "  They  are  canonized  by  pos- 
terity." 

But  I  no  longer  heard  him.  He  looked  about 
him,  and,  bending  down  to  ray  ear,  muttered,  — 

"  And  have  you  forgotten  Zambecarri's  catas- 
trophe ?  Listen.  On  the  7th  of  October,  1804, 
the  clouds  seemed  to  lift  a  little.  On  the  preced- 
ing days,  the  wind  and  rain  had  not  ceased  ;  but 
the  announced  ascension  of  Zambecarri  could  not 
be  postponed.  His  enemies  were  already  banter- 
ing him.  It  was  necessary  to  ascend  to  save  the 
science  and  himself  from  becoming  a  public  jest. 
It  was  at  Boulogne.  No  one  helped  him  to  inflate 
his  balloon. 

"  He  rose  at  midnight,  accompanied  by  Andreoli 
and  Grossetti.  The  balloon  mounted  slowly,  for 
it  had  been  perforated  by  the  rain,  and  the  gas 
was  leaking  out.  The  three  intrepid  aeronauts 
could  only  observe  the  state  of  the  barometer  by 
aid  of  a  dark  lantern.  Zambecarri  had  eaten 
nothing  for  twenty-four  lioui's.  Grossetti  was  also 
fasting. 

"  '  My  friends,'  said  ZambecaiTi,  '  I  am  over- 
come by  cold,  and  exhausted.     I  am  going  to  die.' 

"  He  fell  inanimate  in  the  gallery.  It  was  the 
same  with  Grossetti.  Andreoli  alone  remained 
conscious.  After  long  eflbrts,  he  succeeded  in 
revivinsr  Zambecarri. 


A  Drama  in  the  Air.  167 

"  '  What  is  there  new  ?  Whither  are  we  going  % 
How  is  the  wind  %     What  time  is  it  ? ' 

"  '  It  is  two  o'clock.' 

"  '  Where  is  the  compass  % ' 

" '  Overturned.' 

"  '  Great  God  !     The  lantern  has  gone  out ! ' 

"  '  It  cannot  burn  in  tliis  rarefied  air.' 

"  The  moon  had  not  risen,  and  the  atmospliere 
was  plunged  in  murky  darkness. 

"  '  I  am  cold,  Andreoli.     What  shall  I  do  ] ' 

"  They  slowly  descended  through  a  layer  of  whit- 
ish clouds. 

"  '  Sh  ! '   said  Andreoli.     '  Do  you  hear  ? ' 

"  '  What  % '  asked  Zambecarri. 

"  '  A  strange  noise.' 

"  '  You  are  mistaken.' 

"  '  No.' 

"  Do  you  see  these  travellers,  in  the  middle  of 
the  night,  listening  to  that  unaccountable  noise  ] 
Are  they  going  to  knock  against  a  tower  1  Are 
they  about  to  be  precipitated  on  the  roofs? 

" '  Do  you  hear  ]  One  would  say  it  was  the 
noise  of  the  sea.' 

"  '  Impossible  ! ' 

"  '  It  is  the  groaning  of  the  waves  ! ' 

"  '  It  is  true.' 

•"Light!  liglit!' 

"  After  five  fruitless  attempts,  Andreoli  succeed- 
ed in  obtaining  light.     It  was  three  o'clock. 

"  The  voice  of  violent  waves  was  heard.  They 
were  almost  touching  the  surface  of  the  sea ! 

"  '  We  are  lost ! '  cried  Zambecam,  seizing  a 
large  bag  of  sand. 


168  A  Drama  in  the  Air. 

"  '  Help  ! '  cried  Andreoli. 

"  The  car  touched  the  water,  and  the  waves 
came  up  to  their  bi'easts. 

"  '  Throw  out  the  instruments,  clothing,  money  ! ' 

"  The  aeronauts  completely  stripped  themselves. 
The  balloon,  relieved,  rose  with  frightful  rapidity. 
Zambecarri  was  taken  with  vomiting.  Grossetti 
bled  profusely.  The  unfortunate  men  could  not 
speak,  so  short  was  their  breathing.  They  were 
taken  with  cold,  and  they  were  soon  crusted  over 
with  ice.     The  moon  looked  as  red  as  blood. 

"  After  traversing  the  high  regions  for  a  half- 
hour,  the  balloon  again  fell  into  the  sea.  It  was 
four  in  the  morning.  They  were  half  submerged 
in  the  water,  and  the  balloon  dragged  them  along, 
as  if  under  sail,  for  several  hours. 

"  At  daybreak  they  found  themselves  opposite 
Pesaro,  four  miles  from  the  coast.  They  were 
about  to  reach  it,  when  a  gale  blew  them  back 
into  the  open  sea.  They  were  lost !  The  fright- 
ened boats  fled  at  their  approach.  Happily,  a 
more  intelligent  boatman  accosted  them,  took 
them  on  board,  and  they  landed  at  Ferrada. 

"  A  frightful  journey,  was  it  not  %  But  Zambe- 
carri was  a  brave  and  energetic  man.  Scarcely 
recovered  from  his  sufferings,  he  resumed  his 
ascensions.  During  one  of  them  he  struck  against 
a  tree  ;  his  spirit-lamp  was  broken  on  his  clothes  ; 
he  was  enveloped  in  fire,  his  balloon  began  to 
catch  the  flames,  and  he  came  down  half  con- 
sumed. 

"At  last,  on  the  21st  of  September,  1812,  he 
made  another  ascension  at  Boulog-ne.     The  bal- 


A  Drama  in  the  Air.  169 

loon  clung  to  a  tree,  and  his  lamp  again  set  it  on 
fire.  Zambecarri  fell,  and  was  killed.  And  in 
presence  of  these  facts,  we  would  still  hesitate ! 
No.  The  higher  we  go,  the  more  glorious  will 
be  our  death  !  " 

The  balloon,  being  now  entirely  relieved  of  bal- 
last, we  were  carried  to  an  enormous  height.  It 
vibrated  in  the  atmosphere.  Our  globe,  the  only 
object  which  caught  my  view  in  immensit}^,  seemed 
ready  to  be  annihilated,  and  above  us  the  heights 
of  the  starry  skies  were  lost  in  deep  shadows. 

I  saw  my  companion  rise  up  before  me. 

"The  hour  is  come  !  "  he  said.  "  We  must  die. 
We  are  rejected  of  men.  They  despise  us.  Let 
us  crush  them  ! "' 

"  Mercy  !  "  I  cried. 

"  Let  us  cut  these  cords  !  Let  this  car  be  aban- 
doned in  space.  The  attractive  force  will  change 
its   direction,  and   we   shall  approach  the  sun  ! " 

Despair  galvanized  me.  I  threw  myself  upon 
the  madman,  we  struggled  together,  a  terrible  con- 
flict took  place.  But  I  was  thrown  down,  and 
while  he  held  me  under  his  knee,  the  madman 
was  cutting  the  cords  of  the  car. 

"  One ! "  he  cried. 

"  My  God  ! " 

"Two!     Three!" 

I  made  a  superhuman  effort,  rose  up,  and  vio- 
lently repulsed  the  madman.  The  car  fell,  but  I 
instinctively  clung  to  the  cords  and  hoisted  myself 
into  the  meshes  of  the  netting. 

The  madman  had  disappeared  I 

The   balloon   was   raised    to   an   immeasurable 


170  A  Drama  in  the  Air. 

height.  A  horrible  cracking  was  heard.  The  gas, 
too  much  dilated,  had  burst  its  envelope.  I  shut 
my  eyes  — 

Some  instants  after,  a  damp  warmth  revived 
me.  I  was  in  the  midst  of  clouds  on  fire.  The 
balloon  turned  over  with  dizzy  velocity.  Taken 
by  the  wind  it  made  a  hundred  leagues  an  hour 
in  its  horizontal  course,  and  the  lights  whirled 
around  it. 

Meanwhile  my  fall  was  not  a  very  rapid  one. 
When  I  opened  my  eyes,  I  saw  the  country.  I 
was  two  miles  from  the  sea,  and  the  tempest  was 
driving  me  violently  towards  it,  when  an  abrupt 
shock  forced  me  to  loosen  my  hold.  My  hands 
opened,  a  cord  slipped  swiftly  between  my  fingers, 
and  I  found  myself  on  the  solid  earth ! 

It  was  the  cord  of  the  anchor,  which,  sweeping 
along  the  surface  of  the  ground,  was  caught  in  a 
crevice ;  and  my  balloon,  unballasted  for  the  last 
time,  careered  off"  to  lose  itself  beyond  the  sea. 

When  I  came  to  myself,  I  was  in  bed  in  a 
peasant's  cottage,  at  Harderwick,  a  village  of  La 
G-ueldre,  fifteen  leagues  from  Amsterdam,  on  the 
shores  of  the  Zuyder-Zee. 

A  miracle  had  saved  my  life,  but  my  voyage 
had  been  a  series  of  imprudences,  committed  by  a 
lunatic,  which  I  had  not  been  able  to  avert. 

May  this  terrible  naiTative,  instructing  those 
who  read  it,  not  discourage  the  explorers  of  the 
air. 


A  WINTER  IN  THE  ICE. 


THE    BLACK    FLAG. 

ilHE  cure  of  the  ancient  church  of  Dun- 
kirk rose  at  five  o'clock  on  the  12th  of 
May,  18 — ,  to  perform,  according  to  his 
custom,  low  mass  for  the  benefit  of  a  few 
pious  sinners. 

Attired  in  his  priestly  robes,  he  was  about  to 
proceed  to  the  altar,  when  a  man  entered  the 
sacristy,  at  once  joyous  and  frightened.  He  was  a 
sailor  of  some  sixty  years,  but  still  vigorous  and 
sturdy,  with  an  open,  honest  countenance. 

"  Monsieur  the  cure,"  said  he,  "  stop  a  moment, 
if  you  please." 

"  What  do  you  want  so  early  in  the  morning, 
Jean  Cornbutte  1 "  asked  the  cure. 

"  What  do  I  want ']  Why,  to  embrace  you  in 
my  arms,  i'  faith  !  " 

"  Well,  after  the  mass  at  which  you  are  going  to 
be  present  —  " 

"  The  mass  1"  returned  the  old  sailor,  laughing. 
"  Do  you  think  you  are  going  to  say  your  mass 
now,  and  that  I  will  let  you  do  so  "i " 


172  A    Winter  in  the  Ice. 

"  And  why  should  I  not  say  my  mass  1 "  asked 
the  cure.  "  Explain  yourself.  The  third  bell  has 
sounded  —  " 

"  Whether  it  has  or  not,"  replied  Jean  Corn- 
butte,  "  it  will  sound  many  more  to-day,  monsieur 
the  cure,  for  you  have  promised  me  that  you  will 
bless,  with  your  own  hands,  the  marriage  of  my 
son  Louis  and  my  niece  Marie  I  " 

"He  has  arrived,  then,"  said  the  ci\y6,  joyfully. 

"  About  the  same  thing,"  replied  Cornbutte, 
rubbing  his  hands.  "  Our  brig  was  signalled  from 
the  lookout  at  sunrise,  —  our  brig,  which  you 
yourself  christened  by  the  good  name  of  the 
'  Jeune-Hardie  ' !  " 

**  I  congratulate  you  with  all  my  heai't,  my  old 
Cornbutte,"  said  the  cure,  taking  oif  his  chasuble 
and  stole.  "  I  remember  our  agreement.  The 
vicar  will  take  my  place,  and  1  will  put  myself  at 
your  disposition  against  your  dear  son's  arrival." 

"And  I  promise  you  that  he  will  not  make 
you  fast  long,"  replied  the  sailor.  "You  have  al- 
ready published  the  banns,  and  you  will  only  have 
to  absolve  him  from  the  sins  he  may  have  com- 
mitted between  sky  and  water,  in  the  Northern 
Ocean.  I  had  a  famous  idea,  that  the  marriage 
should  be  celebrated  the  vei'y  day  he  arrived,  and 
that  my  son  Louis  should  leave  his  ship  to  repair 
at  once  to  the  church." 

"  Go,  then,  and  arrange  everything,  Cornbutte." 

"  I  fly,  monsieur  the  cur^.     Good  morning  ! " 

The  sailor  hastened  with  rapid  steps  to  his 
house,  which  stood  on  the  quays,  whence  could  be 
seen  the  Northern  Ocean,  of  which  he  seemed  so 
proud. 


A   Winter  in  the  Ice.  173 

Jean  Combutte  had  amassed  a  cosev  fortune  at 
his  calling.  After  having  long  commanded  the 
vessels  of  a  rich  ship-owner  of  Havre,  he  had  set- 
tled down  in  his  native  town,  where  he  had  caused 
the  brig  "  Jemie-Hardie  "  to  be  constructed  at  his 
own  expense.  Several  successful  voyages  had  been 
made  in  the  North,  and  the  ship  always  found  a 
good  sale  for  its  cargoes  of  wood,  iron,  and  tar. 
Jean  Cornbutte  then  gave  up  the  command  of  her 
to  his  son  Louis,  a  fine  sailor  of  thirty,  who,  ac- 
cording to  all  the  coasting  captains,  was  the  bold^ 
est  mariner  in  Dunkirk. 

Louis  Cornbutte  had  gone  away  deeply  attached 
to  Marie,  his  father's  niece,  who  found  the  time 
of  his  absence  very  long  and  weary.  ]Marie  was 
scarcely  twenty.  She  was  a  pretty  Flemish  girl, 
with  some  Dutch  blood  in  her  veins.  Her  mother, 
on  dying,  had  confided  her  to  her  brother,  Jean 
Cornbutte.  The  brave  old  sailor  loved  her  as  a 
daughter,  and  saw  in  her  proposed  imion  with 
Louis  a  source  of  real  and  durable  liappiuess. 

The  arrival  of  the  ship,  already  signalled  off  the 
coast,  completed  an  important  business  operation, 
from  which  Jean  Cornbutte  expected  large  profits. 
The  "  Jeune-Hardie,"  which  had  left  three  months 
before,  came  last  from  Bodoi,  on  the  west  coast  of 
Norway,  and  had  made  a  quick  voyage  thence. 

On  returning  home,  Jean  Cornbutte  found  the 
whole  house  alive.  Marie,  with  radiant  face,  had 
assumed  her  wedding-dress. 

"  I  hope  the  ship  will  not  arrive  before  us  !"  she 
said. 

"  Hurry,   little   one,"  replied   Jean   Cornbutte, 


1 74  A    Winter  in  the  Ice. 

"for  the  wind  is  north,  and  she  sails  well,  you 
know." 

"  Have  our  friends  been  notified,  uncle  ] "  asked 
Marie. 

"  They  have." 

"  The  notary,  and  the  cure  1 " 

"  Rest  easy.  You  alone  are  keeping  us  wait- 
ing." 

At  this  moment  Clerbaut,  an  old  crony,  came  in. 

"  Well,  my  old  Cornbutte,"  cried  he,  "  here  's 
luck  !  Your  ship  has  arrived  at  the  very  moment 
that  the  government  has  decided  to  purchase  a 
large  quantity  of  wood  for  refitting  the  navy !  " 

"  What  is  that  to  me  ? "  replied  Jean  Cornbutte. 
"What  care  I  for  the  government "? " 

"  You  see.  Monsieur  Clerbaut,"  said  Marie,  "  but 
one  thing  absorbs  us,  —  Louis's  return." 

"  I  don't  dispute  that,"  replied  Clerbant. 
"  But  —  in  short  —  these  piu'chases  of  wood  —  " 

"  And  you  shall  be  at  the  wedding,"  replied 
Jean  Cornbutte,  interrupting  the  merchant,  and 
shaking  his  hand  as  if  he  would  crush  it. 

"  These  purchases  of  wood  —  " 

"  And  with  all  our  friends,  landsmen  and  sea- 
men, Clerbaut.  I  have  already  notified  every- 
body, and  I  shall  invite  the  whole  crew  of  the 
ship." 

"  And  shall  we  go  and  await  them  on  the  barri- 
cade 1 "  asked  Marie. 

"  We  will,  indeed,"  replied  Jean  Cornbutte. 
"  We  will  defile,  two  by  two,  with  the  violins  at 
the  head." 

Jean   Cornbutte's   invited  guests  soon  arrived. 


A   Winter  in  the  Ice.  175 

Though  it  was  very  early,  not  a  shigle  one  failed 
to  appear.  All  congratulated  the  honest  old  sailor 
whom  they  loved.  Meanwhile  Marie,  kneeling 
down,  changed  her  prayers  to  God  into  thanks. 
She  soon  returned,  lovely  and  decked  out,  to  the 
company  ;  and  all  the  women  kissed  her  on  the 
cheek,  while  the  men  vigorously  grasped  her  by 
the  hand.  Then  Jean  Cornbutte  gave  the  signal 
of  departure. 

It  was  a  curious  sight  to  see  this  joyous  group 
taking  its  way,  at  sunrise,  towards  the  sea.  The 
news  of  the  ship's  arrival  had  spread  through  the 
port,  and  many  heads,  in  nightcai:)s,  appeared  at 
the  windows  and  at  the  half-opened  doors.  Sincere 
compliments  and  pleasant  nods  came  from  every 
side. 

The  party  reached  the  barricade  in  the  midst 
of  a  concert  of  praise  and  blessings.  The  weather 
was  magnificent,  and  the  sun  seemed  to  take  part 
in  the  festivity.  A  fresh  north-wind  made  the 
waves  foam  ;  and  some  fishing-smacks,  trimmed 
for  leaving  port,  streaked  the  sea  with  their  rapid 
tracks  between  the  barricades. 

The  two  piers  of  Dunkirk  stretch  far  out  into 
the  sea.  The  wedding-party  occupied  the  whole 
width  of  the  northern  pier,  and  soon  reached  a 
small  house  situated  at  its  extremit}^,  inhabited 
by  the  master  of  the  port.  The  wind  freshened, 
and  the  "  Jeune-Hardie "  ran  swiftly  under  her 
topsails,  mizzen,  brigantine,  gallant,  and  royal. 
There  was  evidently  rejoicing  on  board  as  well 
as  on  land.  Jean  Cornbutte,  spy-glass  in  hand, 
responded  merrily  to  the  questions  of  his  friends. 


17G  A    Winter  in  the  Ice. 

**  See  my  fine  ship  !  "  he  cried  ;  "  clean  and  steady 
as  if  she  had  been  rigged  at  Dunkirk  !  Not  a 
damage,  —  not  a  rope  wanting  !  " 

"  Do  you  see  your  son,  the  captain  1"  asked  one. 

"  No,  not  yet.     Ah,  he  's  at  his  business  ! " 

"  Why  does  n't  he  run  up  his  flag  1 "  asked 
Clerbaut. 

"  I  scarcely  know,  old  friend.  He  has  a  reason 
for  it,  no  doubt." 

"  Your  spy-glass,  imcle  1 "  said  Marie,  taking  it 
from  him.  "  I  wish  to  be  the  first  to  perceive 
him." 

"  But  he  is  my  son,  mademoiselle  !  " 

"  He  has  been  your  son  for  thirty  years,"  an- 
swered the  young  girl,  laughing,  "  and  he  has  only 
been  my  betrothed  for  two  !  " 

The  "  Jeune-Hardie  "  was  now  entirely  visible. 
Already  the  crew  was  preparing  to  cast  anchor. 
The  upper  sails  had  been  brailed.  The  sailors 
who  were  among  the  rigging  might  be  recognized. 
But  neither  Marie  nor  Jean  Cornbutte  had  yet 
been  able  to  wave  their  hands  at  the  captain  of 
the  ship. 

"Faith !  there 's  the  second  mate,  Andre  Vasling," 
cried  Clerbaut. 

"  And  there  's  Fidele  Misonne,  the  carpenter," 
said  another. 

"  And  our  friend  Penellan,"  said  a  third,  saluting 
the  sailor  named. 

The  "  Jevme-Hardie "  was  only  three  cables' 
lengths  from  the  shore,  when  a  black  flag  ascended 
to  the  gaff  of  the  brigantine.  There  was  mourning 
on  board  ! 


A   Winter  in  the  Ice.  177 

A  shudder  of  terror  seized  the  party  and  the 
heart  of  the  young  girl. 

The  ship  sadly  swayed  into  port,  and  an  icy 
silence  reigned  on  its  deck.  Soon  it  had  passed 
the  end  of  the  barricade.  Marie,  Jean  Cornbutte, 
and  all  their  friends  hurried  towards  the  quay  at 
which  she  was  to  anchor,  and  in  a  moment  found 
themselves  on  board. 

"  My  son ! "  said  Jean  Cornbutte,  who  could 
only  articulate  these  words. 

The  sailors,  with  uncovered  heads,  pointed  to 
the  mourning  flag. 

Marie  uttered  a  cry  of  anguish,  and  fell  into 
old  Cornbutte's  arms. 

Andre  Vasling  had  brought  back  the  "  Jeune- 
Hardie,"  but  Louis  Cornbutte,  Marie's  betrothed, 
■was  not  on  board. 


178  A   Winter  in  the  Ice. 


II. 

JEAN    CORNBUTTE's    PROJECT. 

ijS  soon  as  the  young  girl,  confided  to  the 
care  of  the  sympathizing  friends,  had  left 
the  ship,  Andre  Vasling,  the  mate,  ap- 
prised  Jean    Cornbutte    of  the  dreadful 

event  which  had  deprived  him  of  his  son,  narrated 

hi  the  ship's  journal  as  follows  :  — 

"  At  the  height  of  the  Maelstrom,  on  the  26th  of 
April,  the  ship,  putting  for  the  cape,  by  reason  of  bad 
weather  and  southwest  winds,  perceived  signals  of  dis- 
tress made  by  a  schooner  to  the  leeward.  This  schooner, 
deprived  of  its  mizzen-mast,  was  running  towards  the 
gulf,  without  sails.  Captain  Louis  Corubutte,  seeing 
that  this  vessel  was  hastening  into  imminent  danger, 
resolved  to  go  on  board  her.  Despite  the  remon- 
strances of  his  crew,  he  had  the  long-boat  lowered  mto 
the  sea,  and  got  into  it,  with  the  sailor  Courtois  and 
the  helmsman  Pierre  Nouquet.  The  crew  watched 
them  until  they  disappeared  in  the  fog.  Night  came. 
The  sea  became  more  and  more  boisterous.  The 
'  Jeune-Hardie,'  drawn  by  the  currents  in  those  parts, 
was  in  danger  of  l)eing  ingulfed  by  the  Maelstrom. 
She  was  obliged  to  fly  before  the  wmd.  For  several 
days  she  hovered  near  the  place  of  the  disaster,  but  in 
vain.  The  long-boat,  the  schooner,  Captain  Louis,  and 
the  two  sailors  did  not  reappear.  Andre  Vashng  then 
called  the  crew  together,  took  command  of  the  ship, 
and  set  sail  for  Dunkirk." 

After  reading  this  dry  narrative,  Jean  Cornbutte 


A   Winter  in  the  Ice.  179 

wept  for  a  long  time  ;  and  if  he  had  any  consola- 
tion, it  was  the  thought  that  his  son  had  died  in 
attempting  to  save  his  fellow-men.  Then  the  poor 
father  left  the  ship,  the  sight  of  which  made  him 
wretched,  and  returned  to  his  desolate  home. 

The  sad  news  soon  spread  throughout  Dunkirk. 
The  many  friends  of  the  old  sailor  came  to  bring 
him  their  cordial  and  sincere  sympathy.  Then  the 
sailors  of  the  "  Jeune-Hardie  "  gave  a  more  par- 
ticular account  of  the  event,  and  Andre  Vasling 
told  Marie,  at  great  length,  of  the  devotion  of 
her  betrothed  to  the  last. 

Jean  Cornbutte  reflected,  after  having  wept,  and 
the  next  day  after  the  ship's  arrival,  when  Andre 
came  to  see  him,  said,  — 

"Are  you  very  sure,  Andre,  that  my  son  has 
perished  1 " 

"Alas,  yes.  Monsieur  Jean,"  replied  the  mate. 

"  And  you  made  all  possible  search  for  him  1  " 

"  All,  Monsieur  Cornbutte.  But  it  is  unhappily 
but  too  certain  that  he  and  the  two  sailors  were 
swallowed  up  in  the  whirlpool  of  the  Maelstrom." 

"Would  you  like,  Andre,  to  keep  the  second 
command  of  the  ship  % " 

"  That  will  depend  upon  the  captain,  Monsieur 
Cornbutte." 

"  I  shall  be  the  captain,"  replied  the  old  sailor. 
"  I  am  going  to  discharge  the  cargo  with  all 
speed,  make  up  my  crew,  and  sail  in  search  of  my 
son." 

"  Your  son  is  dead  !  "  said  Andre,  obstinately. 

"  It  is  possible,  Andre,"  replied  Jean  Cornbutte, 
shai-ply,   "but  it  is  also  possible    that  he   saved 


180  A   Winter  in  the  Ice. 

himself.  I  am  going  to  rummage  all  the  ports  of 
Norway  whither  he  might  have  been  driven,  and 
when  I  am  faWj  convinced  that  I  shall  never  see 
him  again,  I  will  return  here  to  die  !  " 

Andr6  Vasling,  seeing  that  this  decision  was  ir- 
revocable, did  not  insist  further,  but  went  away. 

Jean  Cornbutte  at  once  apprised  his  niece  of  his 
intention,  and  he  saw  a  few  rays  of  hope  glisten 
across  her  tears.  It  had  not  seemed  to  the  young 
girl  that  her  lover's  death  might  be  doubtful  ;  but 
scarcely  had  this  new  hope  entered  her  heart, 
than  she  abandoned  herself  to  it  without  re- 
serve. 

The  old  sailor  determined  that  the  "  Jeune- 
Hardie  "  shoiild  put  to  sea  without  delay.  The 
ship,  solidly  built,  had  no  need  of  repairs.  Jean 
Cornbutte  gave  his  sailors  notice  that  if  they 
wished  to  re-embai'k,  no  change  in  the  crew  would 
be  made.  He  alone  replaced  his  son  in  the  com- 
mand of  the  brig.  None  of  the  comrades  of  Louis 
Cornbutte  failed  to  respond  to  his  call,  and  there 
were  hardy  tars  among  them,  —  Alaine  Turquiette, 
Fidele  Misonne  the  carpenter,  Penellan  the  Bre- 
ton, who  replaced  Pierre  Nouquet  as  helmsman, 
and  Gradlin,  Aupic,  and  Gervique,  courageous 
and  well-tried  mai-iners. 

Jean  Cornbutte  again  offered  Andre  Vasling  his 
old  rank  on  board.  The  second  mate  w^as  an  able 
officer,  who  had  proved  his  skill  in  bringing  the 
"  Jeune-Hardie  "  into  port.  Yet,  from  what  mo- 
tive could  not  be  told,  Andre  made  some  diffi- 
culties and  asked  time  for  reflection. 

"As  you    will,  Andre    Vasling,"    replied   Corn- 


A    Winter  in  the  Ice.  181 

butte.     "  Only  remember  that  if  you  accept,  you 
will  be  welcome  among  us." 

Jean  had  a  devoted  sailor  in  Penellan  the  Bre- 
ton, who  had  long  been  his  fellow-voyager.  In 
times  gone  by,  little  Marie  was  wont  to  pass  the 
long  winter  evenings  in  the  helmsman's  arms, 
when  he  was  on  shore.  He  felt  a  fatherly  friend- 
ship for  her,  and  she  had  for  him  an  affection 
quite  filial.  Penellan  hastened  the  fitting  out  of 
the  ship  with  all  his  energy,  all  the  more  because, 
according  to  his  opinion,  Andre  Vasling  had  not 
perhaps  made  every  effort  possible  to  find  the 
castaways,  although  he  was  excusable  from  the 
responsibility  which  weighed  upon  him  as  captain. 

Within  a  week  the  "  Jeune-Hardie  "  was  ready 
to  put  to  sea.  Instead  of  merchandise,  she  was 
completely  provided  with  salt  meats,  biscuits,  bar- 
rels of  flour,  potatoes,  pork,  wine,  brandy,  coffee, 
tea,  and  tobacco. 

The  departure  was  fixed  for  the  22d  of  May. 
On  the  evening  before,  Andre  Vasling,  who  had 
not  yet  given  his  answer  to  Jean  Cornbutte,  came 
to  his  house.  He  was  still  undecided,  and  did 
not  know  which  course  to  take. 

Jean  was  not  at  home,  though  the  house  door 
was  open.  Andre  went  into  the  hall,  next  to 
Marie's  chamber,  where  the  sound  of  an  animated 
conversation  struck  his  ear.  He  listened  atten- 
tively, and  recognized  the  voices  of  Penellan  and 
Marie. 

The  discussion  had  no  doubt  been  going  on  for 
some  time,  for  the  j'Oung  girl  seemed  to  be  stoutly 
opposing  what  the  Breton  sailor  said. 


182  A   Winter  in  the  Ice. 

"  How  old  is  my  uncle  Cornbutte  ? "  said  Marie. 

"  Something  about  sixty  years,"  replied  Penel- 
lan. 

"  Well,  is  ho  not  going  to  brave  danger  to  find 
his  son  % " 

"  Our  captain  is  still  a  sturdy  man,"  returned 
the  sailor.  "  He  has  a  body  of  oak  and  muscles 
as  hard  as  a  bar  of  sjjare.  So  I  am  not  afraid  to 
have  him  go  to  sea  again  !  " 

"  My  good  Penellan,"  said  Marie,  "  one  is  strong 
when  one  loves !  Besides,  I  have  full  confidence 
in  the  aid  of  Heaven.  You  understand  me,  and 
will  help  me." 

"  No  !  "  said  Penellan.  "  It  is  impossible,  Ma- 
rie. Who  knows  whither  we  shall  drift,  or  what 
we  must  sufiFer  1  How  many  vigorous  men  have  I 
seen  lose  their  lives  in  these  seas  !  " 

"  Penellan,"  i-eturned  the  young  girl,  "  if  you 
refuse  me,  I  shall  believe  that  you  do  not  love  me 
any  longer." 

Andre  Vasling  understood  the  young  girl's 
resolution.  He  I'eflected  a  moment,  and  his  course 
was  determined  on. 

"  Jean  Cornbutte,"  said  he,  advancing  towards 
the  old  sailor,  who  now  entered,  "  I  will  go  with 
you.  The  cause  of  my  hesitation  has  disappeared, 
and  you  may  count  upon  my  devotion." 

"  I  have  never  doubted  you,  Andr6  Vasling." 
replied  Jean  Cornbutte,  grasping  him  by  the  hand. 
"Marie,  my  child!"  he  added,  calling  in  a  loud 
voice. 

Marie  and  Penellan  made  their  appearance. 

"  We  shall  set  sail  to-morrow  at  daybreak,  with 


A   Winter  in  the  Ice.  183 

the  outgoing  tide,"  said  Jean.  "  My  poor  Marie, 
this  is  the  last  evening  that  ^ye  shall  pass  to- 
gether." 

"  Uncle  !  "  cried  Marie,  throwing  herself  into  his 
arms. 

"  Marie,  bj  the  help  of  God,  I  will  bring  yonr 
lover  back  to  yon  !" 

"  Yes,  we  will  find  Louis,"  added  Andre  Vas- 
ling. 

"You  are  going  with  us,  thenl"  asked  Penel- 
lan,  quickly. 

"  Yes,  Penellan,  Andre  Vasling  is  to  be  my  first 
mate,"  answei-ed  Jean. 

"  Oh,  oh  !  "  ejaculated  the  Breton,  in  a  singular 
tone. 

"  And  his  advice  will  be  useful  to  us,  for  he  is 
able  and  enterprising." 

"  And  yourself,  captain,"  said  Andre.  "  You 
will  set  us  all  a  good  example,  for  you  have  stiU 
as  much  vigor  as  experience." 

"  Well,  my  friends,  good  by  till  to-morrow'.  Go 
on  board  and  make  the  final  arrangements.  Good 
by,  Andre  ;  good  by,  Penellan." 

The  mate  and  the  sailor  went  out  together. 
Jean  and  Marie  remained  alone  with  each  other. 
Many  bitter  tears  were  shed  during  that  sad  even- 
ing. Jean  Cornbutte,  seeing  Marie  so  wretched, 
resolved  to  spare  her  the  pain  of  sepai'ation  by 
leaving  the  house  on  the  morrow  without  her 
knowledge.  So  he  gave  her  a  last  kiss  that  even- 
ing, and  at  three  o'clock  next  morning  was  up  and 
away. 

The  departure  of  the  brig  had  attracted  all  the 


184  A    Winter  in  the  Ice. 

old  sailor's  friends  to  the  pier.  The  cure,  who 
was  to  have  blessed  Marie's  union  with  Louis, 
came  to  give  a  last  benediction  on  the  ship. 
Rough  grasps  of  the  hand  were  silently  ex- 
changed, and  Jean  went  on  board. 

The  crew  were  all  there.  Andre  Vasling  gave 
the  last  orders.  The  sails  were  spread,  and  the 
brig  rapidly  passed  out  under  a  stiff  northwest 
breeze,  whilst  the  cur^,  upright  in  the  midst  of 
the  kneeling  spectators,  committed  the  vessel  to 
the  hands  of  God. 

Whither  goes  this  ship  1  She  follows  the  peril- 
ous route  upon  which  so  many  castaways  have 
been  lost !  She  has  no  certain  destination.  She 
must  expect  every  peril,  and  be  able  to  brave  them 
without  hesitating.  God  alone  knows  where  it 
will  be  her  fate  to  anchor.     May  God  guide  her  ! 


A   Winter  in  the  Ice.  185 


III. 

A    RAY    OF    HOPE. 


\^V' 


T  that  time  of  the  year  the  season  was 
f^^^i  f^"^orable,    and    the    crew    might    hope 
"W^jf.  promptly  to  reach  the  scene  of  the  ship- 
~"^"~'  wreck. 

Jean  Cornbutte's  phm  was  naturally  traced  out. 
He  counted  on  stopijing  at  the  Feroe  Islands, 
whither  the  north-wind  might  have  carried  the 
castaways ;  then,  if  he  was  convinced  that  they 
had  not  been  received  in  any  of  the  ports  of  that 
localitA',  he  would  continue  his  search  beyond  the 
Northern  Ocean,  ransack  the  whole  western  coast 
of  Norway  as  fa.r  as  Bodoe,  the  place  nearest  the 
scene  of  the  shipwreck ;  and,  if  necessary,  farther 
still. 

Andre  Vasliug  thought,  contrary  to  the  cap- 
tain's opinion,  that  the  coast  of  Iceland  should  be 
explored ;  but  Penellan  obseiwed  that,  at  the  time 
of  the  catastrophe,  the  gale  came  from  the  west ; 
which,  while  it  gave  hope  that  the  unfortunates 
had  not  been  forced  towards  the  gu.lf  of  the  Mael- 
strom, gave  ground  for  supposing  that  they  might 
have  been  thrown  on  the  Norwegian  coast. 

It  was  determined,  then,  that  this  coast  should 
be  followed  as  closely  as  possible,  so  as  to  recog- 
nize any  traces  of  them  that  might  appear. 

The    day   after  sailing,  Jean   Cornbutte,  intent 


186  A   Winter  in  the  Ice. 

upon  a  map,  was  absorbed  in  reflection,  when  a 
email  hand  touched  his  shoulder,  and  a  soft  voice 
said  in  his  ear,  — 

"  Have  good  courage,  uncle." 

He  turned,  and  was  stupefied.  Marie  embraced 
him. 

"  Marie,  my  daughter,  on  board  !  "  he  cried. 

"  The  wife  may  well  go  in  search  of  her  hus- 
band, when  the  father  embarks  to  save  his  child." 

"  Unhappy  Marie !  How  wilt  thou  support  our 
fatigues  1  Dost  thou  know  that  thy  presence  may 
be  injurious  to  our  search  1 " 

"No,  uncle,  for  I  am  strong." 

"  Who  knows  whither  we  shall  be  forced  to  go, 
Marie  1  Look  at  this  map.  We  are  approaching 
places  dangerous  even  for  us  sailors,  hardened 
though  we  ai-e  to  the  difficulties  of  the  sea.  And 
thou,  frail  child  ?  " 

"  But,  uncle,  I  come  from  a  family  of  sailors. 
I  am  used  to  stories  of  combats  and  tempests.  I 
am  with  you  and  my  old  friend  Penellan  !  " 

"  Penellan  !  It  was  he  who  concealed  you  on 
board '? " 

"  Yes,  uncle  ;  but  only  when  he  saw  that  I  was 
determined  to  come  without  his  help." 

"  Penellan  !  "  cried  Jean. 

Penellan  entered. 

"  It  is  not  possible  to  undo  what  you  have  done, 
Penellan  ;  but  remember  that  you  are  responsible 
for  Marie's  life." 

"  Rest  easy,  captain,"  replied  Penellan.  "  The 
little  one  has  force  and  courage,  and  will  be  our 
guardian  angel.  And  then,  captain,  you  know  my 
idea,  that  all  is  for  the  best  in  this  world." 


A   Whiter  in  the  Ice.  187 

The  yoimg  girl  was  installed  in  a  cabin,  which 
the  sailors  soon  got  ready  for  her,  and  w-hich  they 
made  as  comfortable  as  possible. 

A  week  later  the  "  Jeune-Hardie "  stopped  at 
the  Feroe  Islands,  but  the  most  minute  search 
was  fruitless.  No  castaway,  shipwrecked  vessel 
had  come  upon  these  coasts.  Even  the  news  of 
the  event  was  quite  unknown.  The  brig  resumed 
its  voyage,  after  a  stay  of  ten  days,  about  the 
10th  of  Jime.  The  sea  was  calm,  and  tlie  winds 
were  favorable.  The  ship  sped  rapidly  towards 
the  Norwegian  coast,  which  it  explored  without 
better  result. 

Jean  Cornbutte  determined  to  proceed  to  Bodoe. 
Perhaps  he  would  there  learn  the  name  of  the 
shipwrecked  schooner  to  the  succor  of  which  Louis 
and  the  sailors  had  sacrificed  themselves. 

On  the  30th  of  June  the  brig  cast  anchor  in 
that  port. 

The  authorities  of  Bodoe  gave  Jean  Cornbutte 
a  bottle  found  on  the  coast,  which  contained  a 
document  bearing  these  words  :  — 

"  ThijS  26th  April,  on  board  the  '  Frooern,'  after  being 
accosted  by  the  long-boat  of  the  '  Jeune-Hardie,'  Ave 
were  drawn  by  the  currents  towards  the  ice.  God 
have  pity  on  us  ! " 

Jean  Combutte's  first  impulse  was  to  thank 
Heaven.  He  thought  himself  on  his  son's  track. 
The  "Frooern"  was  a  Norwegian  sloop  of  which 
there  had  been  no  news,  but  which  had  evidently 
been  drawn  northward. 

Not  a  day  was  to  be  lost.  The  "  Jeune-Hardie  " 
was  at  once  put  in  condition  to  bi'ave  the  perils  of 


188  A   Winter  in  the  Ice. 

the  polar  seas.  The  faithful  Misonne,  the  car- 
penter, carefully  examined  her,  and  assured  him- 
self that  her  solid  construction  might  resist  the 
shock  of  the  ice-masses. 

Penellan,  who  had  already  engaged  in  whale- 
fishing  in  the  arctic  waters,  saw  to  it  that  woollen 
and  fur  coverings,  many  sealskin  moccasins,  and 
wood  for  the  making  of  sledges  with  which  to 
cross  the  ice-fields  were  put  on  board.  The 
amount  of  provisions  was  increased,  and  spirits 
and  charcoal  were  added  ;  for  it  might  be  that 
they  would  have  to  winter  at  some  point  on  the 
Greenland  coast.  They  also  procured,  with  much 
difficulty  and  at  a  high  price,  a  quantity  of  lemons, 
for  preventing  or  curing  the  scui'vy,  that  terrible 
disease  which  decimates  crews  in  the  icy  regions. 
The  ship's  hold  was  filled  with  salt  meat,  biscuits, 
brandy,  etc.,  as  the  steward's  room  no  longer 
sufficed.  They  provided  themselves,  moreover, 
with  a  large  quantity  of  "  pemmican,"  an  Indian 
preparation  which  concentrates  a  great  deal  of 
nutrition  within  a  small  volume. 

By  order  of  the  captain,  some  saws  were  put  on 
board,  for  cutting  the  ice-fields,  as  well  as  picks 
and  wedges  for  separating  them.  The  captain 
determined  to  procure  some  dogs,  for  drawing  the 
sledges  on  the  Greenland  coast. 

The  whole  crew  was  engaged  in  these  prepara- 
tions, and  displayed  great  activity.  The  sailors 
Aupic,  Gervique,  and  Gradlin  zealously  obeyed 
Peuellan's  orders  ;  and  he  admonished  them  not 
to  accustom  themselves  to  woollen  garments, 
though  the  temperature  in  this  latitude,  situated 
just  aV)ove  the  polar  circle,  was  very  low. 


A  Winter  in  the  Ice.  189 

Penellan,  though  he  said  nothing,  narrowly 
watched  every  action  of  Andre  Vasling.  This 
man  was  Dutch  by  birth,  came  from  no  one  knew 
whither,  but  was  at  least  a  good  sailor,  having 
made  two  voyages  on  board  the  "  Jeune-Hardie." 
Penellan  would  not  as  yet  accuse  him  of  any- 
thing, vmless  it  was  that  he  kept  near  ]\Iarie  too 
constantly,  but  did  not  let  him  out  of  his  sight. 

Thanks  to  the  energy  of  the  crew^,  the  brig  was 
equipped  by  the  16th  of  July,  a  fortnight  after 
its  arrival  at  Bodoe.  It  was  then  the  favorable 
season  for  attempting  explorations  in  the  Arctic 
seas.  The  thaw  had  been  going  on  for  two 
months,  and  the  search  might  be  carried  farther 
north.  The  "  Jeune-Hardie  "  set  sail,  and  directed 
her  way  towards  Cape  Brewster,  on  the  eastera 
coast  of  Greenland,  near  the  seventieth  degree  of 
latitude. 


190 


A  Winter  in  the  Ice. 


IV. 


IN    THE    PASSES. 


BOUT  the  23d  of  July  a  reflection, 
raised  above  the  sea,  announced  the  first 
icebergs,  which,  emerging  from  Davis 
Straits,  advanced  into  the  ocean.  From 
this  moment  a  vigilant  watch  was  ordered  to  the 
lookout  men,  for  it  was  important  not  to  come 
into  collision  with  these  enormous  masses. 

The  crew  was  divided  into  two  watches.  The 
first  was  composed  of  Fidele  Misonne,  Gradlin, 
and  Gervique,  and  the  second  of  Andre  Vasling, 
Aupic,  and  Penellan.  These  watches  were  to  last 
only  two  hours,  for  in  those  cold  regions  a  man's 
force  is  diminished  one  half.  Though  the  "  Jeune- 
Hardie"  was  not  yet  beyond  the  sixty-third  degree 
of  latitude,  the  thei-mometer  already  stood  at  nine 
degrees  Centigrade  below  zero. 

Rain  and  snow  often  fell  abundantly.  On  fair 
days,  when  the  wind  was  not  too  violent,  Marie 
remained  on  deck,  and  her  eyes  became  accus- 
tomed to  the  uncouth  scenes  of  the  polar  seas. 

On  the  1st  of  August  she  was  promenading 
aft,  and  talking  with  her  uncle,  Penellan,  and 
Andr6  Vasling.  The  ship  was  then  entering  a 
channel  three  miles  wide,  across  which  broken 
masses  of  ice  were  descending  rapidly  south- 
ward. 


A  Winter  in  the  Ice.  191 

"  When  shall  we  see  land  1 "  asked  the  young 
girl. 

"  In  three  or  four  days  at  the  latest,"  replied 
Jean  Cornbutte. 

"  But  shall  we  find  there  fresh  traces  of  my 
poor  Louis  i " 

"  Perhaps  so,  my  daughter ;  but  I  fear  that  we 
are  still  far  from  the  end  of  our  voyage.  It  is  to 
be  feared  that  the  '  Frotiern  '  was  driven  farther 
noi-thward." 

"  That  may  be,"  added  Andr6  Vasling,  "  for  the 
squall  which  separated  us  fi'om  the  Norwegian 
boat  lasted  three  days,  and  in  three  days  a  ship 
makes  good  headway,  when  it  is  no  longer  able  to 
resist  the  wind." 

"  Permit  me  to  tell  you.  Monsieur  Vasling," 
replied  Penellan,  "  that  that  was  in  April,  that 
the  thaw  had  not  then  begiin,  and  that  therefore 
the  '  Frooern '  must  have  been  soon  arrested  by 
the  ice." 

"  And  no  doubt  dashed  into  a  thousand  pieces," 
said  the  mate,  "  as  her  crew  could  not  manage 
her." 

''  But  these  ice-fields,"  returned  Penellan,  "  gave 
her  an  easy  means  of  reaching  land,  from  which 
she  could  not  have  been  far  distant." 

"  Let  us  hope  so,"  said  Jean  Cornbutte,  inter- 
rupting the  discussion,  which  was  daily  renewed 
between  the  mate  and  the  helmsman.  "  I  think 
we  shall  see  land  before  long." 

"  There  it  is  !  "  cried  Marie.  "  See  those  moun- 
tains ! " 

"No,  my  child,"  rei:)lied  her  uncle.     "Those  are 


192  A   Winter  in  the  Ice. 

mountains  of  ice,  the  first  we  have  met  with. 
They  would  shatter  us  Uke  glass,  if  we  got  en- 
tangled between  them.  Penellan  and  Vasling, 
overlook  the  men." 

These  floating  masses,  more  than  fifty  of  which 
now  appeared  at  the  horizon,  came  nearer  and 
nearer  to  the  brig.  Penellan  took  the  helm,  and 
Jean  Cornbutte,  mounted  on  the  gallant,  indicated 
the  route  to  take. 

Towards  evening  the  brig  was  entirely  sur- 
rounded by  these  moving  ledges,  the  crushing 
force  of  which  is  irresistible.  It  was  necessary, 
then,  to  cross  this  fleet  of  mountains,  for  prudence 
prompted  them  to  keep  straight  ahead.  Another 
difficulty  was  added  to  these  perils ;  the  direction 
of  the  ship  could  not  be  accurately  determined,  as 
all  the  surrounding  points  constantly  changed  posi- 
tion, and  thus  failed  to  afford  a  stationary  per- 
spective. The  darkness  soon  increased  with  the 
fog.  Marie  descended  to  her  cabin,  and  the  whole 
crew,  by  the  captain's  orders,  remained  on  deck. 
They  were  armed  with  long  boat-hooks  with  iron 
spikes,  to  preserve  the  ship  from  collision  with 
the  ice. 

The  ship  soon  entered  a  strait  so  narrow  that 
often  the  ends  of  her  yards  were  grazed  by  the 
mountains  adrift,  and  her  booms  seemed  about 
to  be  driven  in.  They  were  even  forced  to  weath- 
er the  great  yard  so  as  to  touch  the  shrouds.  Hap- 
pily these  precautions  did  not  deprive  the  ves- 
sel of  any  of  its  speed,  for  the  wind  coul'd  only 
reach  the  upper  sails,  and  these  sufficed  to  carry 
her  forward  rapidly.     Thanks  to  her  slender  hull, 


A   Winter  in  the  Ice.  193 

she  passed  thi'ough  these  valleys,  which  were 
filled  with  whirlpools  of  rain,  whilst  the  icebergs 
crushed  against  each  other  with  sharp  cracking 
and  splitting. 

Jean  Combutte  retnnied  to  the  deck.  His  eyes 
could  not  penetrate  the  surrounding  darkness.  It 
became  necessary  to  furl  the  upper  sails,  for  the 
ship  threatened  to  ground,  and  if  she  did  so,  she 
was  lost. 

"  Cursed  voyage  !  "  growled  Andr6  Vasling 
among  the  sailors,  who,  forward,  were  avoiding  the 
most  menacing  ice-blocks  with  their  boat-hooks. 

"  The  fact  is,  that  if  we  escape,  we  shall  owe  a 
fine  candle  to  Our  Lady  of  the  Ice  ! "  replied 
Aupic. 

"Who  knows  how  many  floating  mountains  we 
have  got  to  pass  through  yet  1 "  added  the  mate. 

"  And  who  can  g-uess  what  we  shall  find  beyond 
them  1 "  replied  the  sailor. 

"  Don't  talk  so  much,  prattler,"  said  Gervique, 
"and  look  out  on  your  side.  When  we  have  got 
by  them,  it  '11  be  time  to  grumble.  Look  out  for 
your  boat-hook  ! " 

At  this  moment  an  enormous  block  of  ice,  in 
the  narrow  strait  through  which  the  brig  was 
passing,  came  rapidly  down  upon  her,  and  it 
seemed  impossible  to  avoid  it ;  for  it  barred  the 
whole  width  of  the  channel,  and  the  brig  could 
not  heave  to. 

"  Do  you  feel  the  tiller  1 "  asked  Combutte  of 
Penellan. 

"No,  captain.  The  ship  does  not  steer  any 
longer." 

9  M 


194  A  Winter  in  the  Ice. 

"  Ohe,  boys  !  "  cried  the  captain  to  the  crew ; 
"  don't  be  afraid,  and  buttress  your  hooks  against 
the  gunwale." 

The  block  was  nearly  sixty  feet  high,  and  if  it 
threw  itself  upon  the  brig,  she  would  be  crushed. 
There  was  an  undefinable  moment  of  suspense, 
and  the  crew  retreated  backward,  abandoning 
their  posts  despite  the  captain's  orders. 

But  at  the  instant  when  the  block  was  not 
more  than  half  a  cable's  length  from  the  "  Jeune- 
Hardie,"  a  dull  sound  was  heard,  and  a  veritable 
waterspout  fell  upon  the  stem  of  the  vessel,  which 
then  rose  on  the  back  of  an  enormous  billow. 

The  sailors  uttered  a  cry  of  terrpr ;  but  when 
they  looked  before  them,  the  block  had  disap- 
peared, the  passage  was  free,  and  beyond  an  im- 
mense plain  of  water,  illumined  by  the  rays  of  the 
declining  sun,  assured  them  of  an  easy  navigation. 

"  All  is  for  the  best  !  "  cried  Penellan.  "  Let 's 
trim  our  toj^sails  and  mizzen  !  " 

A  very  common  incident  in  those  parts  had  just 
occurred.  When  these  masses  ai'e  detached  from 
one  another  in  the  thawing  season,  they  float  in  a 
perfect  equilibi'ium  ;  but  on  reaching  the  ocean, 
where  the  water  is  relatively  warmer,  they  are 
speedily  undermined  at  the  base,  which  melts 
little  by  little,  and  which  is  also  shaken  by  the 
shock  of  other  ice-masses.  There  comes  a  moment 
when  the  centre  of  gravity  of  these  masses  is  dis- 
placed, and  then  they  are  completely  overturned. 
Onl}^,  if  this  block  had  turned  over  two  minutes 
later,  it  would  have  fallen  on  the  brig,  and  carried 
her  down  in  its  fall. 


A  Winter  in  the  Ice.  195 


V. 

LIVERPOOL   ISLAND. 


jiHE  brig  now  sailed  in  a  sea  which  was 
almost  entirely  open.  At  the  horizon 
only,  a  whitish  light,  this  time  motion- 
less, indicated  the  presence  of  immov- 
able plains. 

Jean  Cornbutte  now  directed  the  "Jeune- 
Hardie"  towards  Cape  Brewster.  They  were 
already  approaching  the  regions  where  the  tem- 
perature is  excessively  cold,  for  the  sun's  rays  only 
reach  them  very  feebly,  owing  to  their  obliquity. 

On  the  3d  of  August  the  brig  confronted  im- 
movable and  united  ice- masses.  The  passages 
were  seldom  more  than  a  cable's  length  in  width, 
and  the  ship  was  forced  to  make  many  turnings, 
which  sometimes  placed  her  heading  the  wind. 

Penellan  watched  over  Marie  with  paternal  care, 
and,  despite  the  cold,  prevailed  upon  her  to  spend 
two  or  three  hours  every  day  on  deck,  for  exercise 
had  become  one  of  the  indispensable  conditions  of 
health. 

Marie's  courage  did  not  falter.  She  even  com- 
forted the  sailors  with  her  cheerful  talk,  and  all 
of  them  became  warmly  attached  to  her.  Andre 
Vasling  showed  himself  more  attentive  than  ever, 
and  seized  every  occasion  to  be  in  her  company ; 
but  the  young  girl,   by  a  sort  of  presentiment. 


196  A    Winter  in  the  Ice. 

accepted  his  services  with  a  certain  coldness.  It 
may  be  easily  conjectured  that  Andre's  conversa- 
tion referred  more  to  the  future  than  to  the  pres- 
ent, and  that  he  did  not  conceal  the  slight  proba- 
bility thei'e  was  of  saving  the  castaways.  He  was 
convinced  that  they  were  lost,  and  the  young  girl 
ought  thenceforth  to  confide  her  existence  to  some 
one  else. 

Marie  had  not  as  yet  comprehended  Andre's 
designs,  for,  to  his  great  disgust,  he  could  never 
find  an  opportunity  to  talk  long  with  her  alone. 
Penellan  had  always  an  excuse  for  interfering,  and 
destroying  the  effect  of  Andre's  words  by  the 
hopeful  opinions  he  expressed. 

Marie,  meanwhile,  did  not  remain  idle.  Acting 
on  the  helmsman's  advice,  she  set  to  work  on  her 
winter  garments ;  for  it  was  necessary  that  she 
should  completely  change  her  clothing.  The  cut 
of  her  dresses  was  not  suitable  for  these  cold  lati- 
tudes. She  made,  therefore,  a  sort  of  furred  pan- 
taloons, the  bottoms  of  which  were  furnished  with 
sealskin  ;  and  her  narrow  skirts  came  only  to  her 
knees,  so  as  not  to  be  in  contact  with  the  layers 
of  snow  with  which  the  winter  would  cover  the  ice- 
fields. A  fur  mantle,  fitting  closely  to  the  figure 
and  supphed  with  a  hood,  protected  the  upper  part 
of  her  body. 

In  the  intervals  of  their  work,  the  sailors  also 
made  up  clothing  with  which  to  shelter  themselves 
from  the  cold.  They  fashioned  a  quantity  of  high 
sealskin  boots,  with  which  to  cross  the  snow  dur- 
ing their  explorations.  They  woi'ked  thus  all  the 
time  that  the  navigation  in  the  straits  lasted. 


A  Winter  in  the  Ice.  197 

Andre  Vasling,  who  was  an  excellent  shot,  sev- 
eral times  brought  down  aquatic  birds  with  his 
gun ;  innumerable  flocks  of  these  were  always 
careering  about  the  ship.  A  sort  of  eider-ducks 
provided  the  crew  with  very  palatable  food,  which 
relieved  the  monotony  of  the  salt  meat. 

At  last  the  brig,  after  many  turnings,  came  in 
sight  of  Cape  Brewster.  A  long-boat  was  put  to 
sea.  Jean  Cornbutte  and  Penellan  reached  the 
coast,  which  was  entirely  deserted. 

The  ship  at  once  directed  its  course  towards 
Liverpool  Island,  discovered  in  1821  by  Captain 
Scoresby,  and  the  crew  gave  a  hearty  cheer  when 
they  saw  the  natives  running  along  the  shore. 
Communication  was  speedil}'^  established  with  them, 
thanks  to  Penellan's  knowledge  of  a  few  words  of 
their  language,  and  some  phrases  which  the  natives 
themselves  had  learned  of  the  whalers  who  fre- 
quented those  parts. 

These  Greenlanders  were  small  and  squat ;  they 
were  not  more  than  four  feet  six  inches  high ;  they 
had  red,  round  faces,  and  low  foreheads ;  their 
hair,  flat  and  black,  fell  over  their  shoulders;  their 
teeth  were  decayed,  and  they  seemed  to  be  affected 
by  the  sort  of  leprosy  which  is  peculiar  to  ichthy- 
ophagous tribes. 

In  exchange  for  pieces  of  iron  and  brass,  of  which 
they  are  extremely  covetous,  these  poor  creatures 
brought  bear  furs,  the  skins  of  sea-calves,  sea-dogs, 
sea-wolves,  and  all  the  animals  generally  known 
as  seals.  Jean  Cornbutte  obtained  these  at  a 
low  price,  and  they  were  certain  to  become  most 
useful. 


198  A   Winter  in  the  Ice. 

The  captain  then  made  the  natives  understand 
that  he  was  in  search  of  a  shipwrecked  vessel,  and 
asked  them  if  they  had  heard  of  it.  One  of  them 
immediately  drew  a  kind  of  ship  on  the  snow,  and 
indicated  that  a  vessel  of  some  sort  had  been  car- 
ried northward  three  months  before  :  he  also  man- 
aged to  make  it  understood  that  the  thaw  and 
breaking  np  of  the  ice-fields  had  prevented  the 
Greenlanders  from  going  in  search  of  it ;  and, 
indeed,  their  very  light  canoes,  which  they  man- 
aged with  paddles,  could  not  go  to  sea  at  that 
time. 

This  news,  though  meagre,  restored  hope  to  the 
hearts  of  the  sailors,  and  Jean  Cornbutte  had  no 
difficulty  in  persuading  them  to  advance  farther 
in  the  polar  seas. 

Before  quitting  Liverpool  Island,  the  captain 
purchased  a  pack  of  six  Esquimaux  dogs,  which 
were  soon  acclimated  on  board.  The  ship  weighed 
anchor  on  the  morning  of  the  lOtli  of  August,  and 
entered  the  northern  straits  under  a  brisk  wind. 

The  longest  days  of  the  year  had  now  arrived ; 
that  is,  the  sun,  in  these  high  latitudes,  did  not 
set,  and  reached  the  highest  point  of  the  spirals 
which  it  described  above  the  horizon. 

This  total  absence  of  night  was  not,  however, 
very  apparent,  for  the  fog,  rain,  and  snow  some- 
times enveloped  the  ship  in  real  darkness. 

Jean  Cornbutte,  who  was  resolved  to  advance  as 
far  as  possible,  began  to  take  measures  of  health. 
Tlie  space  between  decks  was  securely  enclosed, 
and  every  morning  care  was  taken  to  ventilate  it 
with  fresh  air.     The  stoves  were  installed,  and  the 


A  Winter  in  the  Ice.  19& 

pipes  so  disposed  as  to  yield  as  much  heat  as  pos- 
sible. The  sailors  were  advised  to  wear  only  one 
woollen  shirt  over  their  cotton  shirts,  and  to  her- 
metically close  their  seal  cloaks.  The  fires  were 
not  yet  lighted,  for  it  was  important  to  reserve  the 
wood  and  charcoal  for  the  most  intense  cold. 

Warm  beverages,  such  as  coffee  and  tea,  were 
regularly  distributed  to  the  sailors  morning  and 
evening ;  and  as  it  was  important  to  live  on  meat, 
they  shot  ducks  and  teal,  which  abounded  in  these 
parts. 

Jean  Cornbutte  also  placed  at  the  summit  of  the 
mainmast  a  "  crow's-nest,"  a  sort  of  cask  staved  in 
at  one  end,  in  which  a  lookout  remained  constantly 
to  observe  the  ice-fields. 

Two  days  after  the  brig  had  lost  sight  of  Liverpool 
Island,  the  temperature  became  suddenly  colder 
vmder  the  influence  of  a  dry  wind.  Some  indica- 
tions of  winter  were  perceived.  The  ship  had  not 
a  moment  to  lose,  for  soon  the  way  would  be  en- 
tirely closed  to  her.  She  advanced  across  the 
straits,  between  which  lay  ice-plains  thirty  feet 
thick. 

On  the  morning  of  the  3d  of  September,  the 
"  Jeune-Hardie  "  reached  the  top  of  Gael-Hamkes 
Bay.  Land  was  then  thirty  miles  to  the  leeward. 
It  was  the  first  tmie  that  the  brig  had  stopped  be- 
fore a  mass  of  ice  which  offered  no  outlet,  and 
which  was  at  least  a  mile  wide.  The  saws  must 
now  be  used  to  cut  the  ice.  Penellan,  Aupic, 
Gradlin,  and  Turquiette  were  chosen  to  work  the 
saws,  which  had  been  carried  outside  the  ship. 
The  direction   of  the  cutting  was  so   determined 


200  A  Winter  in  the  Ice. 

that  the  ciirreut  might  carry  off  the  pieces  de- 
taclied  from  the  mass.  The  whole  crew  worked  at 
this  task  for  nearly  twenty  hours.  They  found  it 
very  painful  to  i-emain  on  the  ice,  and  were  often 
obliged  to  plunge  into  the  water  up  to  their  middle ; 
their  sealskin  garments  protected  them  but  imper- 
fectly from  the  dampness. 

Besides,  all  excessive  toil  in  those  high  lati- 
tudes is  soon  followed  by  an  overwhelming  weari- 
ness ;  for  the  breath  soon  fails,  and  the  strongest 
are  forced  to  rest  at  frecpient  intervals. 

At  last  the  navigation  became  free,  and  the  brig 
was  towed  beyond  the  mass  which  had  so  long  ob- 
structed her  course. 


A  Winter  in  the  Ice.  201 


VI. 

THE   QUAKING   OF   THE   ICE. 

OR  several  days  the  "  Jeuue-Hardie " 
struggled  against  formidable  obstacles. 
The  crew  were  almost  all  the  time  at 
work  with  the  saws,  and  often  powder 
had  to  be  used  to  blow  up  the  enormous  blocks  of 
ice  which  closed  the  way. 

On  the  12th  of  September  the  sea  offered  but 
one  solid  plain,  without  issue  or  passage,  surround- 
ing the  vessel  on  all  sides,  so  that  she  could  neither 
advance  nor  retreat.  The  temperature  remained 
at  an  average  of  sixteen  degrees  below  zero.  The 
winter  season  had  come,  with  its  sufferings  and 
dangers. 

The  "  Jeune-Hardie  "  was  then  near  the  twenty- 
first  degree  of  longitude  west  and  the  seventy-sixth 
degree  of  latitude  north,  at  the  entrance  of  Gael- 
Hamkes  Bay. 

Jean  Combutte  made  his  preliminaiy  prepara- 
tions for  wintering.  He  first  searched  for  a  creek 
whose  position  would  shelter  the  ship  from  the 
wind  and  breaking  up  of  the  ice.  Land,  which 
was  probably  thirty  miles  west,  could  alone  offer 
him  secure  shelter,  and  he  resolved  to  attempt  to 
reach  it. 

He  set  out  on  the  12th  of  September,  accompa- 
nied by  Andre  Vasling,  Penellan,  and  the  two  sail- 
9* 


202  A  Winter  in  the  Ice. 

ors  Gradlin  and  Tarqniette.  Each  man  carried 
provisions  for  two  days,  for  it  was  not  likely  that 
their  expedition  would  occupy  a  longer  time,  and 
they  w^ere  supplied  with  skins  on  which  to  sleep. 

Snow  had  fallen  in  great  abundance  and  was  not 
yet  frozen  over ;  and  this  delayed  them  seriously. 
They  often  sank  to  their  waists,  and  could  only 
advance  very  cautiously,  for  fear  of  falling  into 
crevices.  Penellan,  who  walked  in  front,  care- 
fully sounded  each  depression  with  his  iron-pointed 
staff. 

Abovit  five  in  the  evening  the  fog  began  to 
thicken,  and  the  little  band  were  forced  to  stop. 
Penellan  looked  about  for  an  iceberg  which  might 
shelter  them  from  the  wind,  and  after  refresliing 
themselves,  with  regrets  that  they  had  no  warm 
drink,  they  spread  their  skins  on  the  snow,  wrapped 
themselves  up,  lay  close  to  each  other,  and  soon 
dropped  asleep  from  sheer  fatigue. 

The  next  morning  Jean  Cornbutte  and  his  com- 
panions wei-e  buried  beneath  a  bed  of  snow  more 
than  a  foot  deep.  Happily  their  skins,  perfectly 
impermeable,  had  preserved  them,  and  the  snow 
itself  had  aided  in  retaining  their  heat,  which  it 
prevented  from  radiating  without. 

The  captain  gave  the  signal  of  departure,  and 
about  noon  they  at  last  descried  the  coast,  which 
at  iirst  they  could  scarcely  distinguish.  High 
ledges  of  ice,  cut  perpendicularly,  rose  on  the 
shore ;  their  variegatf3d  summits,  of  all  forms  and 
shapes,  reproduced  on  a  large  scale  the  phenomena 
of  crystallization.  Myriads  of  aquatic  fowl  flew 
about  at  the  approach  of  the  party,  and  the  seals, 


A   Winter  in  the  Ice.  203 

lazily  lying  on  the  ice,  plunged  hurriedly  into  the 
depths. 

"  r  faith  !  "  said  Penellan,  "  we  shall  not  want 
for  either  furs  or  game  !  " 

"Those  animals,"  returned  Cornbutte,  "give 
every  evidence  of  having  been  already  visited  by 
men  ;  for  in  places  totally  uninhabited,  they  would 
not  be  so  wild." 

"  None  but  Greenlanders  frequent  these  parts," 
said  Andre  Vasling. 

"I  see  no  trace  of  their  passage,  however ;  nei- 
ther any  encampment  nor  the  smallest  hut,"  said 
Penellan,  who  had  climbed  up  a  high  peak.  "  0 
captain!"  he  continued,  "come  here!  I  see  a 
point  of  laud  which  will  shelter  us  splendidly  from 
the  northeast-wind.'' 

"  Come  along,  boys  !  "  said  Jean  Cornbutte. 

His  companions  followed  him,  and  they  soon 
rejoined  Penellan.  Ihe  sailor  had  said  what  was 
true.  An  elevated  point  of  land  jutted  out  like  a 
promontory,  and  curving  towards  the  coast,  formed 
a  little  inlet  of  a  mile  in  width  at  most.  Some 
moving  ice-blocks,  broken  by  this  point,  floated  in 
the  midst,  and  the  sea,  sheltered  from  the  colder 
winds,  was  not  yet  entirely  frozen  over. 

This  was  an  excellent  spot  for  wintering.  It 
remained  to  cany  the  ship  thither.  Jean  Corn- 
butte remarked  that  the  neighboring  ice-field  was 
veiy  thick,  and  it  seemed  very  difficult  to  cut  a 
canal  to  bring  the  brig  to  its  destination.  Some 
other  creek,  then,  must  be  found ;  it  was  in  vain 
that  he  explored  northwai-d.  The  coast  remained 
straight  and  abrupt  for  a  long  distance,  and  be- 


204  A   Winter  in  the  Ice. 

yond  the  point,  it  was  directly  exposed  to  the 
attacks  of  the  east-wind.  The  circumstance  dis- 
concerted the  captain  all  the  more  that  Andrd 
Vasling  essayed  to  show  how  bad  the  situation 
was.  Penellan  found  it  difficidt  to  convince  him- 
self, in  this  dilemma,  that  all  was  for  the  best. 

But  one  chance  remained,  —  to  seek  a  shelter 
on  the  southern  side  of  the  coast.  This  was  to 
return  on  their  path,  but  hesitation  was  useless. 
The  little  band  returned  rapidly  in  the  direction 
of  the  ship,  as  their  provisions  had  begun  to  give 
out.  Jean  Cornb\itte  searched  for  some  practica- 
ble passage  or  at  least  some  fissure  by  which  a 
canal  might  be  cut  across  the  ice-fields,  all  along 
the  route,  but  in  vain. 

Towards  evening  the  sailors  came  to  the  same 
place  where  they  had  encamped  over  night. 
There  had  been  no  snow  during  the  day,  and  they 
could  recognize  the  imprint  of  their  bodies  on  the 
ice.  They  again  disposed  themselves  to  sleep  with 
their  furs. 

Penellan,  much  disturbed  by  the  bad  success  of 
the  expedition,  was  sleeping  restlessly,  when,  at  a 
waking  moment,  his  attention  was  attracted  by  a 
dull  rumbling.  He  listened  attentively,  and  the 
rumbling  seemed  so  strange  that  he  nudged  Jean 
Cornbutte  with  his  elbow. 

"What  is  that  1 "  said  the  latter,  whose  mind, 
according  to  a  sailor's  habit,  was  awake  as  soon  as 
his  body. 

"  Listen,  captain." 

The  noise  increased,  with  perceptible  violence. 

"  It  can  only  be  thunder,  in  so  high  a  lati- 
tude," said  Cornbutte,  rising. 


A   Winter  in  the  Ice.  205 

"  I  think  we  have  to  do  with  some  white  bears," 
rephed  Penellan. 

"  The  devil !     We  have  not  seen  any  yet." 

"  Sooner  or  later,  we  must  have  expected  a  visit 
from  them.     Let  us  give  them  a  good  reception." 

Penellan,  armed  with  a  gun,  lightly  crossed  the 
ledge  which  sheltered  them.  The  darkness  was 
very  dense  ;  he  could  discover  nothing  ;  but  a  new 
incident  soon  betrayed  to  him  the  cause  of  the 
noise,  which  did  not  proceed  fi-om  their  vicinity. 
Jean  Cornbutte  rejoined  him,  and  they  observed 
with  terror  that  this  rumbling,  which  wakened 
their  companions,  came  from  beneath  them. 

A  new  kind  of  peril  menaced  them.  To  the 
noise,  which  resembled  peals  of  thunder,  was 
added  a  distinct  undulating  motion  of  the  ice-field. 
Sevei'al  of  the  party  lost  their  balance  and  fell. 

"  Attention  !  "  cried  Penellan. 

*'  Yes  !  "  some  one  responded. 

"  Turquiette  !  Gradlin  !  where  are  you]" 

"  Here  I  am  !  "  responded  Turquiette,  shaking 
ofif  the  snow  with  which  he  was  covered. 

"  This  way,  Vasling,"  cried  Combutte  to  the 
mate.     "  And  Gradlin  V' 

"  Present,  captain.  But  we  are  lost  !  "  shouted 
Gradlin,  in  fright. 

"  No  !  "  said  Penellan.  "  Perhaps  we  are 
saved  ! " 

Hardh^  had  he  uttered  these  words  when  a 
frightful  cracking  noise  was  heard.  The  ice-field 
broke  clear  through,  and  the  sailors  were  foi'ced 
to  cling  to  the  block  which  wavered  just  by  them. 
Despite  the  helmsman's  words,  they  found  them- 


206  A  Wi7Uer  in  the  Ice. 

selves  in  a  most  perilous  position,  for  an  ice-quake 
had  occurred.  The  ice-masses  had  just  "weighed 
anchor,"  as  the  sailors  say.  The  movement  lasted 
nearly  two  minutes,  and  it  was  to  be  feared  that 
the  crevice  would  yawn  at  the  very  feet  of  the 
unhappy  sailors.  They  anxiously  awaited  day- 
light in  the  midst  of  continuous  shocks,  for  they 
could  not,  without  risk  of  death,  move  a  step,  and 
they  remained  stretched  out  at  full  length  to 
avoid  being  engulfed. 

As  soon  as  it  was  daylight,  a  very  different  as- 
pect presented  itself  to  their  eyes.  The  vast  jilain, 
a  compact  mass  the  evening  before,  was  now  sepa- 
rated in  a  thousand  places,  and  the  waves,  raised 
by  some  submarine  commotion,  had  broken  the 
thick  layer  which  sheltered  them. 

The  thought  of  his  ship  occurred  to  Jean  Corn- 
butte's  mind. 

"  My  poor  brig  !  "  he  cried.  "  It  must  have 
perished  !  " 

The  deepest  despair  began  to  overcast  the  faces 
of  his  companions.  The  loss  of  the  ship  inevita- 
bly preceded  their  own  deaths. 

"  Courage,  my  friends,"  said  Penellan.  "  Re- 
flect that  this  night's  disaster  has  opened  us  a 
path  across  the  ice,  which  will  enable  us  to  bring 
-our  ship  to  the  bay  for  wintering  !  And,  stop ! 
I  am  not  mistaken.  There  is  the  '  Jeune-Hardie,' 
a  mile  nearer  to  us  !  " 

All  hurried  forward,  and  so  imprudently  that 
Turcpiiette  slipped  into  a  fissure,  and  would  have 
certainly  perished,  had  not  Jean  Cornbutte  seized 
him  by  his  hood.  He  got  off  with  a  rather  cold 
bath. 


A  Winter  in  the  Ice.  207 

The  brig  was  indeed  floating  two  miles  away. 
After  infinite  trouble,  the  little  band  reached  her. 
She  was  in  good  condition ;  but  her  rudder,  which 
they  had  neglected  to  lift,  had  been  broken  by 
the  ice. 


208 


A  Walter  in  the  Ice. 


VII. 


SETTLING    FOR    THE    WINTER. 


EXELLAN  was  once  more  right ;  all  was 
for  the  best,  and  this  ice-quake  had 
opened  a  practicable  channel  for  the  ship 
to  the  bay.  The  sailors  had  only  to 
make  skilful  use  of  the  currents  to  conduct  her 
thither. 

On  the  19th  of  September,  the  brig  was  at  last 
moored  in  her  bay  for  wintering,  two  cables' 
lengths  from  the  shore,  securely  anchored  on  a 
good  bottom.  The  ice  began,  the  next  day,  to 
form  around  her  hull ;  it  soon  became  strong 
enough  to  bear  a  man's  weight,  and  they  could 
establish  a  communication  with  land. 

The  rigging,  as  is  customary  in  arctic  naviga- 
tion, remained  as  it  was ;  the  sails  were  carefully 
folded  on  the  yards  and  covered  with  their  casings, 
and  the  "  crow's-nest "  remained  in  place,  as  much 
to  enable  them  to  make  distant  observations  as  to 
attract  attention  to  the  ship. 

The  sun  now  scarcely  rose  above  the  horizon. 
Since  the  June  solstice,  the  spirals  which  it  had 
described  descended  lower  and  lower ;  and  it  would 
soon  disappear  altogether. 

The  crew  hastened  to  make  the  necessary  prep- 
arations. Penellan  supervised  the  whole.  The 
ice  was  soon  thick  around  the  shij),  and  it  was  to 


A  Winter  in  the  Ice.  209 

be  feared  that  its  pressure  might  become  danger- 
ous ;  but  Penellan  waited  xmtil,  by  reason  of  the 
going  and  coming  of  the  floating  ice-masses  and 
their  adherence,  it  had  reached  a  thickness  of 
twenty  feet ;  he  then  had  it  cut  around  the  hull, 
so  that  it  united  under  the  ship,  the  form  of  which 
it  assumed  ;  enclosed  thus  in  a  mould,  the  brig  had 
no  longer  to  fear  the  pressui'e  of  the  ice,  which 
could  make  no  movement. 

The  sailors  then  elevated,  along  the  wales,  to 
the  height  of  the  nettings,  a  snow  wall  five  or  six 
feet  thick,  which  soon  froze  as  hard  as  a  rock. 
This  envelope  did  not  allow  the  interior  heat  to 
radiate  outside.  A  canvas  tent,  covered  with 
skins  and  hermetically  closed,  was  stretched  over 
the  whole  length  of  the  deck,  and  formed  a  sort 
of  walk  for  the  sailors. 

They  also  constructed  on  the  ice  a  storehouse 
of  snow,  in  which  articles  which  embarrassed  the 
ship  were  stowed  away.  The  partitions  of  the 
cabins  were  taken  down,  so  as  to  form  a  single 
vast  apartment  forward,  as  well  as  aft.  This  sin- 
gle room,  besides,  was  more  easy  to  warm,  as  the 
ice  and  humidity  found  fewer  corners  in  which  to 
take  refuge.  It  was  also  less  difficult  to  ventilate 
it,  by  means  of  canvas  funnels  which  opened  with- 
out. 

Each  sailor  exerted  great  energy  in  these  prepara- 
tions, and  about  the  25th  of  September  they  were 
completed.  Andre  Vasling  had  not  shown  him- 
self the  least  active  in  this  task.  He  devoted  him- 
self with  especial  zeal  to  the  young  girl's  comfort, 
and  if  she,  absorbed  in  thoughts  of  her  poor  Louis, 


210  A   Winter  in  the  Ice. 

did  not  perceive  this,  Jean  Cornbutte  did  not  fail 
soon  to  remark  it.  He  spoke  of  it  to  Penellan  ; 
he  recalled  several  incidents  which  completely  en- 
lightened him  regarding  his  mate's  intentions ; 
Andr6  Vasling  loved  Marie,  and  reckoned  on  ask- 
ing her  uncle  for  her  hand,  as  soon  as  it  was 
proved  beyond  doubt  that  the  castaways  were 
irrevocably  lost ;  they  would  return  then  to  Dun- 
kirk, and  Andre  Vasling  would  be  well  satisfied 
to  wed  a  rich  and  pretty  girl,  who  would  then  be 
the  sole  heiress  of  Jean  Cornbutte. 

But  Andre,  in  his  impatience,  was  often  impru- 
dent. He  had  several  times  declared  that  the 
search  for  the  castaways  was  useless,  when  some 
new  indication  contradicted  him,  and  enabled  Pe- 
neUan  to  exult  over  him.  The  mate,  therefore, 
cordially  detested  the  helmsman,  who  returned  his 
dislike  heartily.  Penellan  only  feared  that  Andre 
might  sow  seeds  of  dissension  among  the  crew,  and 
persuaded  Jean  Cornbutte  to  answer  him  evasively 
on  the  first  occasion. 

When  the  preparations  for  the  winter  were  com- 
pleted, the  captain  took  measures  to  preserve  the 
health  of  the  crew.  Every  morning  the  men  were 
ordered  to  air  their  bei'ths,  and  carefully  clean  the 
interior  walls,  to  deprive  them  of  the  night's  damp- 
ness. They  received  boiling  tea  or  coffee,  which 
are  excellent  cordials  to  use  against  the  cold,  morn- 
ing and  evening ;  then  they  were  divided  into 
hunting-parties,  who  should  procure  as  much  fresh 
nourishment  as  possible  for  every  day. 

Each  one  also  took  healthy  exercise  every  day, 
so  as  not  to  expose  himself  without  motion  to  the 


A   Winter  in  the  Ice.  211 

cold ;  for  in  a  temperature  thirty  degrees  below 
zero,  some  part  of  the  body  might  suddenly  be- 
come fi'ozen.  In  such  cases,  friction  of  the  snow 
was  used,  which  alone  could  heal  the  afiected  part. 

Penellan  also  strongly  advised  cold  abhitions 
every  morning.  It  required  some  courage  to  plunge 
the  hands  and  face  in  the  snow,  which  had  to  be 
melted  within.  But  Penellan  bravely  set  the  ex- 
ample, and  Marie  was  not  the  last  to  imitate  him. 

Jean  Cornbutte  did  not  forget  to  have  readings 
and  prayers,  for  it  was  needful  that  the  hearts  of 
his  comi'ades  should  not  give  way  to  despair  or 
weariness.  Nothing  is  more  dangerous  in  these 
desolate  latitudes. 

The  sky,  always  gloomy,  filled  the  soul  with  sad- 
ness. A  thick  snow,  lashed  by  violent  winds, 
added  to  the  horrors  of  their  situation.  The  sun 
would  soon  altogether  disappear.  Had  the  clouds 
not  gathered  in  masses  above  their  heads,  they 
might  have  enjoyed  the  moonlight,  which  was 
about  to  become  really  their  sun  during  the  long 
polar  night ;  but,  with  the  west-winds,  the  snow 
did  not  cease  to  fall.  Every  moniing  it  was  neces- 
sary to  clear  off"  the  sides  of  the  ship,  and  to  cut  a 
new  stairway  in  the  ice  to  enable  them  to  reach 
the  ice-field.  They  easily  succeeded  in  doing  this 
with  snow-knives  ;  the  steps  once  cut,  a  little  water 
was  thrown  over  them,  and  they  at  once  hardened. 

Penellan  had  a  hole  cut  in  the  ice,  not  far  from 
the  ship.  Eveiy  day  the  new  crust  which  formed 
over  its  top  was  broken,  and  the  water  which  was 
drawn  thence,  from  a  certain  depth,  was  less  cold 
than  that  at  the  surface. 


212  A  Winter  in  the  Ice. 

All  these  preparations  occupied  nearly  three 
weeks.  It  was  time  to  go  forward  with  the  search. 
The  ship  was  imprisoned  for  six  or  seven  months, 
and  only  the  next  thaw  could  open  a  new  route 
across  the  ice.  It  was  wise,  then,  to  profit  by  this 
delay  to  extend  their  explorations  northward. 


A  Winter  in  the  Ice.  213 


VIII. 

PLAN    OF   THE   EXPLORATIOXS. 


jN  the  9th  of  October,  Jean  Combutte  held 

^fej^i  a  council  to  settle  the  plan  of  .his  opera- 
tions, to  which,  that  there  might  be 
union,  zeal,  and  courage  on  the  pai-t  of 
every  one,  he  admitted  the  whole  crew.  Map  in 
hand,  he  clearly  explained  their  situation. 

The  easteiTi  coast  of  Greenland  advances  per- 
pendicularly noi-thward.  The  discoveries  of  the 
navigators  have  given  the  exact  boxandaries  of  those 
parts.  In  the  extent  of  five  hundred  leagues, 
which  separates  Greenland  from  Spitzberg,  no  land 
has  been  found.  An  island  (Shannon  Island)  lay 
a  hundred  miles  north  of  Gael-Hamkes  Bay,  where 
the  "  Jeune-Hardie  "  was  going  to  wintei\ 

If  the  Norwegian  schooner,  according  to  all  the 
probabilities,  had  been  driven  in  this  direction, 
supposing  that  she  could  not  reach  Shannon  Isl- 
and, it  was  here  that  Louis  Cornbutte  and  his  com- 
rades must  have  sought  for  a  winter  asylum. 

This  opinion  prevailed,  despite  Andre  Vasling's 
9pposition  ;  and  it  was  decided  to  direct  the  explo- 
rations on  the  side  towai'ds  Shannon  Island. 

Arrangements  to  this  end  were  at  once  begun. 
A  sledge  like  that  used  by  the  Esquimaux  had 
been  procured  on  the  Norwegian  coast.  This  was 
constructed  of  planks  cui-ved  before  and  behind, 


21-i  A   Winter  in  the  Ice. 

and  was  made  to  slide  over  the  snow  and  ice.  It 
was  twelve  feet  long  and  four  wide,  and  could 
therefore  carry  provisions,  if  need  there  was,  for 
several  weeks.  Fidele  Misonne  soon  put  it  in 
order,  working  upon  it  in  the  snow  storehouse, 
whither  his  tools  had  been  carried.  For  the  first 
time  a  coal-stove  was  set  up  in  this  storehouse, 
without  which  all  labor  there  would  have  been  im- 
possible. The  jDipe  was  carried  out  through  one 
of  the  lateral  walls,  by  a  hole  pierced  in  the  snow ; 
but  a  grave  inconvenience  resulted  from  this,  —  for 
the  heat  of  the  stove,  little  by  little,  melted  the 
snow  where  it  came  in  contact  with  it ;  and  the 
opening  visibly  increased.  Jean  Cornbutte  con- 
trived to  surround  this  part  of  the  pipe  with  some 
metallic  canvas,  which  is  impermeable  by  heat. 
This  succeeded  completely. 

While  Misonne  was  at  work  uj)on  the  sledge, 
Penellan,  aided  by  Marie,  was  preparing  the  cloth- 
ing necessary  for  the  expedition.  Sealskin  boots 
they  had,  fortunately,  in  plenty.  Jean  Cornbutte 
and  Andre  Vasling  occupied  themselves  with  the 
provisions.  They  chose  a  small  barrel  of  spirits, 
intended  to  supply  a  portable  chafing-dish;  re- 
serves of  coffee  and  tea  in  ample  quantity  were 
packed ;  a  small  box  of  biscuits,  two  hundred 
pounds  of  pemmican,  and  some  gourds  of  brandy 
completed  the  stock  of  aliments.  The  guns  would 
bring  down  some  fresh  game  every  day.  A  quan- 
tity of  powder  was  divided  between  several  bags  ; 
the  compass,  sextant,  and  spy-glass  were  put  care- 
fully out  of  the  way  of  inj  ury. 

On  the  11th  of  October  the  sun  no  longer  ap- 


A  Winter  in  the  Ice.  215 

peared  above  the  horizon.  They  were  obHged  to 
keep  a  Hghted  lamp  in  the  lodgings  of  the  crew  all 
the  time.  There  was  no  time  to  lose  ;  the  explo- 
rations must  be  begim.  This  is  why  :  In  the  month 
of  Januaiy  it  would  become  so  cold  that  it  would 
be  impossible  to  venture  out  without  peril  of  life. 
For  two  months  at  least  the  crew  would  be  con- 
demned to  the  most  complete  imprisonment ;  then 
the  thaw  would  begin,  and  would  be  prolonged  to 
the  time  when  the  ship  should  quit  the  ice.  This 
thaw  would,  of  course,  prevent  any  explorations. 
On  the  other  hand,  if  Louis  Cornbutte  and  his  com- 
rades were  still  in  existence,  it  was  not  probable 
that  they  would  be  able  to  resist  the  severities  of 
the  arctic  winter.  They  must  therefore  be  saved 
beforehand,  or  all  hope  would  be  lost.  Andr6  Vas- 
ling  knew  all  this  better  than  any  one.  He  there- 
fore resolved  to  put  every  possible  obstacle  in  the 
way  of  the  expedition. 

The  preparations  for  the  journey  were  completed 
about  the  20th  of  October.  It  remained  to  select 
the  men  who  should  compose  the  party.  The 
young  girl  could  not  be  deprived  of  the  protection 
of  Jean  Cornbutte  or  of  Penellan  ;  neither  of  these 
could,  on  the  other  hand,  be  spared  from  the  ex- 
pedition. 

The  question  then  was  whether  Marie  coidd 
bear  the  fatigues  of  such  a  jovu'ney.  She  had 
already  passed  through  rough  experiences  without 
seeming  to  suffer  from  them,  for  she  was  a  sailor's 
daughter,  used  from  infancy  to  the  fatigues  of  the 
sea,  and  even  Penellan  was  not  dismayed  to  see 
her  struggling  in  the  midst  of  this  severe  climate, 
against  the  dangers  of  the  polar  seas. 


216  A  Winter  in  the  Ice. 

It  was  decided,  therefore,  after  a  long  discus- 
sion, that  she  should  go  with  them,  and  that  a 
place  should  be  reserved  for  her,  at  need,  on  the 
sledge,  on  which  a  little  wooden  hut  was  con- 
structed, hermetically  closed  in.  As  for  Marie, 
she  was  delighted,  for  she  dreaded  to  be  left  alone 
without  her  two  protectors. 

The  expedition  was  thus  formed  :  Marie,  Jean 
Cornbutte,  Penellan,  Andre  Vasling,  Aupic,  and 
Fidele  Misonne.  Alaine  Turquiette  remained  in 
charge  of  the  brig,  and  Gervique  and  Gradlin 
stayed  behind  with  him.  New  provisions  of  all 
kinds  were  carried ;  for  Jean  Cornbutte,  in  order 
to  carry  the  exploration  as  far  as  possible,  had 
resolved  to  establish  depots  along  the  route,  at 
each  seven  or  eight  days'  march.  When  the 
sledge  was  ready  it  was  at  once  fitted  up,  and 
covered  with  a  skin  tent.  The  whole  weighed 
some  seven  hundred  pounds,  which  a  pack  of  five 
dogs  might  easily  carry  over  the  ice. 

On  the  2  2d  of  October,  as  the  captain  had 
foretold,  a  sudden  change  took  place  in  the  tem- 
perature. The  sky  cleared,  the  stars  emitted  an 
extraordinary  light,  and  the  moon  shone  above 
tire  horizon,  no  longer  to  leave  the  heavens  for  a 
fortnight.  The  thermometer  descended  to  twenty- 
five  degrees  below  zero. 

The  departure  was  fixed  for  the  following  day. 


A   Winter  in  the  Ice.  217 


IX. 

THE    HOUSE    OF    SXOW. 


|]N  the  23d  of  October,  at  eleven  in  the 
morning',  in  a  fine  moonlight,  the  cara- 
van set  out.  Precautions  were  this  time 
taken  tliat  the  journey  might  be  a  long 
one,  if  necessary.  Jean  Cornbutte  followed  the 
coast,  and  ascended  northward.  The  steps  of  the 
travellers  made  no  impression  on  the  glittering, 
hard  ice.  Jean  was  forced  to  guide  himself  by 
points  which  he  selected  at  a  distance ;  sometimes 
he  fixed  upon  a  hill  bristling  with  peaks ;  some- 
times on  a  vast  iceberg  which  pressure  had  raised 
above  the  plain. 

At  the  first  halt,  after  going  fifteen  miles,  Pe- 
nellan  prepared  to  encamp.  The  tent  was  erected 
against  an  ice-block.  Marie  had  not  suffered  seri- 
ously with  the  extreme  cold,  for  luckily  the  breeze 
had  subsided,  and  was  much  more  bearable ;  but 
the  young  girl  had  several  times  been  obliged  to 
descend  from  her  sledge  to  avert  numbness  from 
impeding  the  cii'culation  of  her  blood.  Otherwise, 
her  little  hut,  hung  with  skins,  afibrded  her  all 
possible  comfort. 

When  night,  or  rather  sleeping-time,  came,  the 
little   hut  was  carried  under  the  tent,   where   it 
served  as  a  bedroom  for  ]\Iai'ie.     The  evening  re- 
past was  composed  of  fresh  meat,  pemmican,  and 
10 


218  A  Winter  in  the  Ice. 

hot  tea.  Jean  Cornbutte,  to  avert  danger  of  the 
scurvy,  distributed  to  each  of  the  party  a  few 
drops  of  lemon-juice.  Then  all  slept  under  God's 
protection. 

After  eight  hours  of  repose,  they  got  ready  to 
resume  their  march.  A  substantial  breakfast  was 
provided  to  the  men  and  the  dogs ;  then  they  set 
out.  The  ice,  exceedingly  compact,  enabled  these 
animals  to  draw  the  sledge  with  rapid  ease.  The 
party  sometimes  found  it  difficult  to  keep  up  with 
them. 

But  the  sailors  soon  began  to  suffer  one  dis- 
comfort, —  the  being  dazzled.  Ophthalmia  be- 
trayed itself  in  Aupic  and  Misonne.  The  moon's 
light,  striking  on  these  vast  white  plains,  burned 
the  eyesight,  and  gave  the  eyes  insupportable  pain. 

There  was  thus  produced  a  very  singular  effect 
of  refraction.  As  they  walked,  when  they  thought 
they  were  about  to  put  foot  on  a  hillock,  they 
stepped  down  lower,  which  often  occasioned  falls, 
happily  so  little  serious  that  Penellan  made  them 
occasions  for  bantering.  Still,  he  told  them  never 
to  take  a  step  without  sounding  the  ground  with 
the   spiked  staff  with  which  eacli  was  armed. 

About  the  1st  of  November,  ten  days  after  they 
had  set  out,  the  caravan  had  gone  fifty  leagues  to 
the  northward.  Jean  Cornbutte  was  painfully  daz- 
zled, and  his  sight  sensibly  changed.  Aupic  and 
Misonne  had  to  feel  their  way,  for  their  eyes, 
rimmed  with  red,  seemed  burned  by  the  white  re- 
flection. Marie  had  been  preserved  from  this  mis- 
fortune by  remaining  within  her  hut,  to  which  she 
confined  herself  as  much  as  possible.     Penellan, 


A  Winter  in  the  Ice.  219 

sustained  by  an  indomitable  courage,  resisted  all 
these  fatigues.  But  it  was  Andre  Vasling  who  bore 
himself  best,  and  upon  whom  the  cold  and  dazzling 
seemed  to  produce  no  effect.  His  iron  frame  was 
equal  to  every  hardship ;  and  he  was  secretly 
pleased  to  see  the  most  robust  of  his  companions 
becoming  discoui'aged,  and  already  foresaw  the 
moment  when  they  would  be  forced  to  retreat  to 
the  ship  again. 

On  the  1st  of  November  it  became  absolutely 
necessary  to  halt  for  a  day  or  two.  As  soon  as  the 
place  for  the  encampment  had  been  selected,  they 
pi'oceeded  to  arrange  it.  It  was  determined  to 
erect  a  house  of  snow,  which  should  be  supported 
against  one  of  the  rocks  of  the  promontory.  Mi- 
sonne  at  once  marked  out  the  foundations,  which 
measured  fifteen  feet  long  by  five  wide.  Penellan, 
Aupic,  and  Misonne,  by  aid  of  their  knives,  cut 
out  great  blocks  of  ice,  which  they  canned  to 
the  chosen  spot  and  set  up,  as  masons  would 
have  placed  stone-walls.  The  sides  of  the  foun- 
dation were  soon  raised  to  a  height  and  thickness 
of  about  five  feet ;  for  the  materials  were  abundant, 
and  the  structure  w-as  intended  to  be  suiSciently 
solid  to  last  several  days.  The  four  walls  were 
completed  in  eight  hours ;'  an  opening  had  been 
left  on  the  southern  side,  and  the  canvas  of  the 
tent,  placed  on  these  four  walls,  fell  over  the  open- 
ing and  sheltered  it.  It  only  remained  to  cover 
the  whole  with  large  blocks,  destined  to  form  the 
roof  of  this  temporary  structure. 

After  three  more  hours  of  hard  work  the  house 
was  done,  and  they  all  went  into  it,  overcome  with 


220  A  Winter  in  the  Ice. 

weariness  and  disconragement.  Jean  Cornbutte 
sufFex'ed  so  much  that  he  could  not  walk,  and 
Andre  Vasling  so  skilfully  aggravated  his  gloomy 
feelings,  that  he  forced  from  him  a  promise  not  to 
pursue  his  search  farther  in  those  frightful  soli- 
tudes. Penellan  did  not  know  which  saint  to  in- 
voke. He  thought  it  unworthy  and  craven  to 
give  up  to  reasons  which  had  little  weight,  and 
tried  to  destroy  them ;    but  in  vain. 

Meanwhile,  though  it  had  been  decided  to  re- 
turn, rest  had  become  so  necessary  that  for  three 
days  no  preparations  for  departure  were  made. 

On  the  ith  of  November  Jean  Cornbutte  began 
to  bury,  on  a  point  of  the  coast,  the  provisions  for 
which  there  was  no  use.  A  stake  indicated  the 
place  of  the  deposit,  in  the  improbable  event  that 
new  explorations  should  be  made  in  that  direction. 
Every  day  since  thej'  had  sot  out  similar  deposits 
had  been  made,  so  that  they  wei'e  assured  of  am- 
ple sustenance  on  the  return. 

The  departure  was  fixed  for  ten  in  the  morning, 
on  the  5th.  The  most  profound  sadness  filled  the 
little  band.  Marie  with  difficulty  restrained  her 
tears,  when  she  saw  her  uncle  so  completely  dis- 
couraged. So  many  useless  sufferings  !  So  much 
labor  lost !  Penellan  himself  became  ferocious  in 
his  ill-humor ;  he  devoted  everybody  to  the  nether 
regions,  and  did  not  cease  to  wax  angry  at  the 
weakness  and  cowardice  of  his  comrades,  who  were 
more  timid  and  tired,  he  said,  than  Marie,  who 
would  have  gone  to  the  end  of  the  world  without 
complaint. 

Andre  Vasling  could  not  disguise  the  pleasure 


A  Winter  in  the  Ice.  221 

which  this  decision  gave  him.  He  showed  him- 
self more  attentive  than  ever  to  the  young  girl, 
to  whom  he  even  held  out  hopes  that  a  new  search 
should  be  made  when  the  winter  was  over ;  know- 
ing well  that  it  would  then  be  too  late  ! 


222 


A  Winter  in  the  Ice. 


X. 


BURIED   ALIVE. 

ilHE  evening  before  the  departure,  just  as 
they  were  about  to  take  supper,  Penel- 
lan  was  breaking  up  some  empty  casks 
for  firewood,  when  he  was  suddenly  suf- 
focated by  a  thick  smoke.  At  the  same  instant 
the  snow-house  was  shaken  as  if  by  a  quaking  of 
the  earth.  The  party  uttered  a  cry  of  terror,  and 
PeneUan  hiu-ried  outside. 

It  was  entu-ely  dark.  A  frightful  tempest  — 
for  it  was  not  a  thaw  —  was  raging,  whirlpools  of 
snow  careei-ed  around,  and  it  w^as  so  exceedingly 
cold  that  the  helmsman  felt  his  hands  rapidly 
freezing.  He  was  obliged  to  go  in  again,  after 
rubbing  himself  violently  with  snow. 

"  It  is  a  tempest,"  said  he.  "  May  Heaven 
grant  that  our  house  may  withstand  it ;  for,  if  the 
storm  should  destroy  it,  we  should  be  lost !  " 

At  the  same  time  with  the  gusts  of  wind,  a 
noise  was  heard  beneath  the  frozen  soil ;  icebergs, 
broken  from  the  promontory,  dashed  away  noisily, 
and  fell  upon  one  another;  the  wind  blew  with 
such  violence,  that  it  seemed  sometimes  as  if  the 
whole  house  moved  from  its  foundation ;  phospho- 
rescent lights,  inexplicable  in  that  latitude,  flashed 
across  the  whirlpools  of  the  snow. 

"  Marie  !  Marie  !  "  cried  Penellan,  seizing  the 
young  girl's  hands. 


A   Winter  in  the  Ice.  223 

"  We  are  badly  caught !  "  said  Misonne. 

"  And  I  know  not  whether  we  shall  escape,"  re- 
plied Aupic. 

"  Let  us  quit  the  snow-house !  "  said  Andre  Vas- 
ling. 

"  It  is  impossible  !  "  returned  Penellan.  "  The 
cold  outside  is  terrible ;  perhaps  we  can  bear  it  by 
staying  here." 

"  Give  me  the  thermometer,"  demanded  Yasling. 

Avipic  handed  it  to  him.  It  showed  ten  degrees 
below  zero  inside  the  house,  though  the  fire  was 
lighted.  Yasling  raised  the  canvas  which  covered 
the  opening,  and  pushed  it  aside  hastily ;  for  he 
would  have  been  lacerated  by  the  fall  of  ice  w^hich 
the  wind  hurled  around,  and  which  fell  in  a  perfect 
hail- storm. 

"  Well,  Yasling,''  said  Penellan,  "  will  you  go 
out,  then  1     You  see  that  we  are  more  safe  here." 

"Yes,"  said  Jean  Cornbutte  ;  "and  we  must 
use  every  effort  to  strengthen  the  house  on  the 
interior." 

"  But  a  still  more  terrible  danger  menaces  us," 
said  Yasling. 

"  What  ] "  asked  Jean. 

"  The  wind  is  breaking  the  ice  against  which 
we  are  propped,  just  as  it  has  that  of  the  prom- 
ontory, and  we  shall  be  either  driven  hence  or  sub- 
merged ! " 

"  That  seems  doubtful,"  said  Penellan,  "  for  it 
is  freezing  hard  enough  to  ice  over  all  liquid  sur- 
faces.    Let  us  see  what  the  temperature  is." 

He  raised  the  canvas  so  as  to  pass  out  his  arm, 
and  with  difficulty  found  the  thermometer  again,  in 


224  A  Winter  in  the  Ice. 

the  midst  of  the  snow  ;  but  he  at  last  succeeded 
in  seizing  it,  and,  holding  the  lamp  to  it,  said,  — 

"  Thirty-two  degrees  below  zero  !  It  is  the 
coldest  we  have  seen  here  yet !  " 

"  Ten  degrees  more,"  said  Vasling,  "  and  the 
mercury  will  freeze." 

A  mournful  silence  followed  this  remark. 

About  eight  in  the  morning  Penellan  essayed  a 
second  time  to  go  ovit  to  jvidge  of  their  situation. 
It  was  necessary  to  give  an  escape  to  the  smoke, 
which  the  wind  had  several  times  repelled  into 
the  hut.  The  sailor  wrapped  his  cloak  tightly 
about  him,  made  sure  of  his  hood  by  fastening  it 
to  his  head  with  a  handkerchief,  and  raised  the 
canvas. 

The  opening  was  entirely  obstructed  by  a  re- 
csisting  snow.  Penellan  took  his  staff,  and  suc- 
ceeded in  plunging  it  into  the  compact  mass  ;  but 
terror  froze  his  blood  when  he  perceived  that  the 
end  of  the  staff  was  not  free,  and  was  checked  by 
a  hard  body ! 

"  Cornbutte,"  said  he  to  the  captain,  who  had 
come  up  to  him,  "  we  are  buried  under  this  snow  !  " 

"  What  say  you  1 "  cried  Jean  Cornbutte. 

"  I  say  that  the  snow  is  massed  and  frozen  around 
us  and  over  us,  and  that  we  are  buried  alive  ! " 

"  Let  us  try  to  clear  this  mass  of  snow  away," 
replied  the  captain. 

The  two  friends  buttressed  themselves  against 
the  obstacle  which  obstructed  the  opening,  but 
they  could  not  move  it.  The  snow  formed  an 
iceberg  more  than  five  feet  thick,  and  attached 
itself  solidly  to  the  house.     Jean  could  not  sup- 


A   Winter  in  the  Ice.  225 

press  a  cry,  which  awoke  Misonne  and  Vasling. 
An  oath  burst  from  the  latter,  whose  features 
contracted.  At  this  moment  the  smoke,  thicker 
than  ever,  poured  into  the  house,  for  it  conld  not 
find  an  issiie. 

"  Malediction  !  "  cried  Misonne.  "  The  pipe  of 
the  stove  is  sealed  up  by  the  ice  ! " 

Penellan  resumed  his  staff,  and  took  down  the 
pipe,  after  throwing  snow  on  the  embers  to  extin- 
guish them,  which  produced  such  a  smoke  that 
the  light  of  the  lamp  could  scarcely  be  seen ; 
then  he  tried  with  his  staff  to  clear  out  the 
orifice,  but  he  only  encountered  a  rock  of  ice  ! 
A  frightful  end,  preceded  by  a  terrible  agony, 
seemed  to  be  their  doom.  The  smoke,  penetrat- 
ing the  throats  of  the  unfortunate  party,  caused 
an  insufferable  pain,  and  air  would  soon  fail  them 
altogether ! 

Marie  here  rose,  and  her  presence,  which  in- 
spired Cornbutte  with  despair,  imparted  some 
courage  to  Penellan.  He  said  to  himself  that  it 
could  not  be  that  the  poor  girl  was  destined  to  so 
horrible  a  death. 

"Ah!"  said  she,  "you  have  made  too  much 
fire.     The  room  is  full  of  smoke  !  " 

"  Yes,  yes,"  stammered  Penellan. 

"  It  is  evident,"  resumed  Marie,  "  for  it  is  not 
cold,  and  it  is  long  since  we  have  felt  too  much 
heat." 

No  one  dared  to  tell  her  the  truth. 

"  See,  Marie,"  said  Penellan,  "  help  us  get 
breakfast  ready.  It  is  too  cold  to  go  out.  Here 
is  the  chafing-dish,  the  spirit,  and  the  coffee. 
10*  0 


226  A  Winter  in  the  Ice. 

Come,  you  others,  a  little  pemmican  first,  as  this 
wretched  storm  forbids  us  from  hunting." 

These  words  stirred  up  his  comrades. 

"  Let  us  first  eat,"  added  Penellan,  "  and  then 
we  shall  see  about  getting  off"." 

Penellan  set  the  example  and  devoured  his 
share  of  the  breakfast.  His  comrades  imitated 
him,  and  then  drank  a  cup  of  boiling  coffee,  which 
somewhat  restored  their  spirits.  Then  Jean  Corn- 
butte  decided  energetically  that  they  should  at 
once  set  about  devising  means  of  safety. 

Andr6  Vasling  now  said, — 

"  If  the  storm  is  still  i-agiug,  which  is  probable, 
we  must  be  buried  ten  feet  uuder  the  ice,  for 
we  can  hear  no  noise  outside." 

Penellan  looked  at  Marie,  who  now  understood 
the  truth,  and  did  not  tremble.  The  helmsman 
first  heated,  by  the  flame  of  the  spirit,  the  iron 
point  of  his  staff,  and  successive  introduced  it 
into  the  four  walls  of  ice,  but  he  could  find  no  issue 
in  either.  Cornbutte  then  resolved  to  cut  out  an 
opening  in  the  door  itself.  The  ice  was  so  hard 
that  it  was  difficult  for  the  knives  to  make  the 
least  impression  on  it.  The  pieces  which  were  cut 
off  soon  encu.mbered  the  hut.  After  working  hard 
for  two  hours,  they  had  only  hollowed  out  a  space 
three  feet  deep. 

Some  more  rapid  method,  and  one  which  was 
less  likely  to  demolish  the  house,  must  be  thought 
of;  for  the  farther  they  advanced,  the  more  vio- 
lent became  the  effort  to  break  off  the  compact 
ice.  It  occurred  to  Penellan  to  make  use  of  the 
chafing-dish  to  melt  the  ice  in  the  desired  direction. 


A   Winter  in  the  Ice.  227 

It  was  a  hazardous  method,  for,  if  their  imprison- 
ment lasted  long,  the  spirit,  of  which  they  had  bnt 
little,  would  be  wanting  when  needed  to  prepare 
the  meals.  Nevertheless,  the  idea  was  welcomed 
on  all  hands,  and  was  put  in  execntion.  They 
first  cut  a  hole  three  feet  deep  by  one  in  diameter, 
to  receive  the  water  which  would  result  from  the 
melting  of  the  ice ;  and  it  was  well  that  they  took 
this  precaution,  for  the  water  soon  oozed  out  under 
the  action  of  the  fire,  and  Penellan  advanced  across 
the  mass  of  ice.  The  opening  widened  little  by 
little,  but  this  kind  of  work  could  not  be  long  con- 
tinued ;  for  the  water,  covering  their  clothes,  pene- 
trated to  their  bodies  here  and  there.  Penellan 
was  obliged  to  pause  in  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  and 
to  withdraw  the  chafing-dish  with  which  to  dry 
himself.  Misonne  then  took  his  place,  and  worked 
sturdily  at  the  task. 

In  two  hours,  though  the  opening  was  five  feet 
deep,  the  points  of  the  staffs  could  not  yet  find  an 
issue  without. 

"  It  is  not  possible,"  said  .Jean  Cornbutte,  "  that 
snow  could  have  fallen  in  such  abundance.  It 
must  have  been  gathered  on  this  point  by  the 
wind.  Perhaps  we  had  better  think  of  escaping 
in  some  other  direction." 

"  I  don't  know,"  replied  Penellan  ;  "  but  if  it 
were  only  not  to  discourage  our  comrades,  we 
ought  to  continue  to  pierce  the  wall  where  we 
have  begun.     We  must  find  an  issue  erelong." 

"  Will  not  the  spirit  fail  us  ■? "  asked  the  cap- 
tain. 

"  I  hope  not.     But  let  us,  if  necessary,  dispense 


228  A   Winter  in  the  Ice. 

with  coffee  and  hot  drinks.  Besides,  that  is  not 
what  most  alarms  me." 

"What  is  it,  then,  Penellan  1  " 

"  Our  lamp  is  going  out,  for  want  of  oil,  and  we 
ai'e  fast  exhausting  our  provisions.  —  At  last, 
thank  God  !  " 

Penellan  went  to  replace  Andr4  Vasling,  who 
was  vigorously  working  for  the  common  deliver- 
ance. 

"  Monsieur  Vasling,"  said  he,  "  I  am  going  to 
take  your  place  ;  but  look  out  well,  I  beg  of  you, 
for  every  tendency  of  the  house  to  fall,  so  that  we 
may  have  time  to  prevent  it." 

The  time  for  rest  had  come,  and  when  Penellan 
had  added  one  more  foot  to  the  opening,  he  lay 
down  beside  his  conai'ades. 


A   Vy  inter  in  the  Ice.  229 


XL 

A   CLOUD    OF    SMOKE. 

HE   next  day,    when  the  sailors   awoke, 

they  were  sniTounded  by  complete  dark- 

"i'W.  ness.     The  lamp   had  gone   out.     Jean 

'—^    (^ornbutte  roused  Penellan  to  ask  him  for 


^v 


the  tinder-bos,  which  was  passed  to  him.  Penellan 
rose  to  light  the  fire,  but,  in  getting  up,  his  head 
struck  against  the  ice  ceiling.  He  was  horrified, 
for  on  the  evening  before  he  could  still  stand  upright. 
The  chafing-dish  being  lighted  up  by  the  dim  rays 
of  the  spirit,  he  perceived  that  the  ceiling  was  a 
foot  lower  than  before. 

Penellan  resumed  work  with  desperate  energy. 

At  this  moment  the  young  girl  observed,  by  the 
light  which  the  chafing-dish  cast  upon  Penellan's 
face,  that  despair  and  will  were  struggling  in  his 
rough  features  for  the  mastery.  She  went  to  him, 
took  his  hands,  and  tenderly  pressed  them. 

"  She  cannot,  must  not  die  thus  ! "  he  cried. 

He  took  his  chafing-dish,  and  once  more  at- 
tacked the  nari'ow  opening.  He  plunged  in  his 
staff,  and  felt  no  resistance.  Had  he  reached  the 
soft  layers  of  the  snow '?  He  drew  out  his  staff, 
and  a  bright  ray  penetrated  to  the  house  of  ice  ! 

"  Here,  my  friends  !  "  he  shouted. 

He  pushed  back  the  snow  with  his  hands  and 
feet,  but  the  exterior  surface  was  not  thawed,  as 


230  A   Winter  in  the  Ire. 

he  had  thought.  With  the  ray  of  hght,  a  violent 
cold  entered  the  cabin  and  seized  npon  everything 
moist,  to  freeze  it  in  an  instant.  Penellan  en- 
larged the  opening  with  his  cutlass,  and  at  last  was 
able  to  breathe  the  free  air.  He  fell  on  his  knees 
to  thank  God,  and  was  soon  joined  by  Marie  and 
his  comrades. 

A  magnificent  moon  lit  up  the  sky,  but  the  cold 
was  so  extreme  that  they  could  not  bear  it.  They 
re-entered  their  retreat ;  but  Penellan  first  looked 
about  him.  The  promontory  was  no  longer  there, 
and  the  hut  w^as  now  in  the  midst  of  a  vast  plain 
of  ice.  Penellan  thought  he  would  go  to  the 
sledge,  where  the  provisions  were.  The  sledge  had 
disappeared  ! 

The  cold  forced  him  to  return.  He  said  nothing 
to  his  companions.  It  was  necessary,  before  all, 
to  dry  their  clothing,  which  was  done  with  the 
chafing-dish.  The  thermometer,  held  for  an  in- 
stant in  the  air,  descended  to  thirty  degrees  below 
zero. 

An  hour  after,  Vasling  and  Penellan  resolved  to 
venture  outside.  They  wrapped  themselves  up 
in  their  still  wet  garments,  and  went  out  by  the 
opening,  the  sides  of  which  had  become  as  hard  as 
a  rock. 

"  We  have  been  driven  towards  the  northeast," 
said  Vasling,  reckoning  by  the  stars,  which  shone 
with  wonderful  brilliancy. 

"  That  would  not  be  bad,"  said  Penellan,  "  if 
our  sledge  had  come  with  us." 

"  Is  not  the  sledge  there  % "  cried  Vasling.  "  Then 
we  are  lost !  " 


A   Winter  in  the  Ice.  231 

"  Let  us  look  for  it,"  replied  Penellan. 

They  went  around  the  hut,  which  formed  a  block 
more  than  fifteen  feet  high.  An  immense  quan- 
tity of  snow  had  fallen  during  the  whole  of  the 
storm,  and  the  wind  had  massed  it  against  the 
only  elevation  which  the  plain  presented.  The  en- 
tire block  had  been  driven  by  the  wind,  in  the 
midst  of  the  broken  icebergs,  more  than  twenty- 
five  miles  to  the  northeast,  and  the  prisoners  had 
been  carried  with  their  floating  prison.  The  sledge, 
supported  by  another  iceberg,  had  been  turned 
another  way,  for  no  trace  of  it  was  to  be  seen, 
and  the  dogs  must  have  perished  amid  this  fright- 
ful tempest. 

Andre  Vasling  and  Penellan  felt  despair  taking 
possession  of  them.  They  shrank  from  returning 
to  their  companions.  They  did  not  dare  to  an- 
nounce this  fatal  news  to  their  comrades  in  mis- 
fortune. They  climbed  upon  the  block  of  ice  in 
which  the  hut  was  hollowed,  and  could  perceive 
nothing  but  the  white  immensity  which  encom- 
passed them  on  all  sides.  Already  the  cold  was 
beginning  to  stiffen  their  limbs,  and  the  humidity 
of  their  garments  was  being  transformed  into 
icicles  which  hung  about  them. 

Just  as  Penellan  was  about  to  descend,  he  looked 
towards  Andi'e.  He  saw  him  suddenly  gaze  in 
one  direction,  then  shudder  and  turn  pale. 

"What  is  the  matter,  Vasling  1"  he  asked. 

"  Nothing,"  replied  the  other.  "Let  us  go  down 
and  urge  the  captain  to  leave  these  parts,  where 
we  ought  never  to  have  come,  as  quickly  as  pos- 
sible." 


232  A  Winter  in  the  Ice. 

Instead  of  obeying,  Penellan  ascended  again, 
and  looked  in  the  direction  which  had  drawn  the 
mate's  attention.  A  very  different  effect  was  pro- 
duced on  him,  for  he  uttered  a  shout  of  joy,  and 
cried,  — 

"  Blessed  be  God  !  " 

A  light  smoke  was  rising  in  the  northeast. 
There  was  no  possibility  of  deception.  It  indicated 
the  presence  of  animate  beings.  Penellan's  cries 
of  joy  reached  the  rest  below,  and  all  were  able  to 
convince  themselves  with  their  eyes  that  he  was 
not  mistaken. 

Without  thinking  of  their  want  of  provisions  or 
the  severity  of  the  temperature,  wrapped  in  their 
hoods,  they  were  all  soon  advancing  towards  the 
spot  whence  the  smoke  arose  in  the  northeast. 
This  was  evidently  five  or  six  miles  off,  and  it  was 
very  difficult  to  take  exactly  the  right  direction. 
The  smoke  now  disappeared,  and  no  elevation 
served  as  a  guiding  mark,  for  the  ice-plain  was 
one  united  level.  It  was  important,  nevertheless, 
not  to  diverge  from  a  straight  line. 

"  Since  we  cannot  guide  ourselves  by  distant 
objects,"  said  Jean  Cornbutte,  "  we  must  use  this 
method.  Penellan  will  go  ahead,  Vasling  twenty 
steps  behind  him,  and  I  twenty  steps  behind  Vas- 
ling. I  can  then  judge  whether  or  not  Penellan 
diverges  from  the  straight  line." 

They  had  gone  on  thus  for  half  an  hour,  when 
Penellan  suddenly  stopped  and  listened.  The 
party  hurried  up  to  him. 

"  Did  you  hear  nothing^ "  he  asked. 

"  Nothing,"  replied  Misonne. 


A  Winter  in  the  Ice.  233 

"  It  is  strange,"  said  Penellan.  "  It  seemed  to 
me  I  heai'd  cries  from  this  direction." 

"  Cries  1 "  replied  Marie.  "  We  are  perhaps 
near  the  end,  then." 

"  That  is  no  reason,"  said  Andre  Vashng.  "  In 
these  high  latitudes  and  cold  regions  sounds  may 
be  heard  to  a  great  distance." 

"  However  that  may  be,"  replied  Jean  Corn- 
butte,  "  let  us  go  forward,  or  we  shall  be  fi'ozen." 

"No!"  cried  Penellan.      "Listen!" 

Some  feeble  sounds,  quite  perceptible,  however, 
were  heard.  They  seemed  to  be  cries  of  distress. 
They  were  twice  repeated.  They  seemed  like  cries 
for  help.     Then  all  became  silent  again. 

"  I  was  not  mistaken,"  said  Penellan.  "  Foi*- 
ward  ! " 

He  began  to  run  in  the  direction  whence  the  cries 
had  proceeded.  He  went  thus  two  miles,  when, 
to  his  utter  stupefaction,  he  saw  a  man  lying  on 
the  ice.  He  went  up  to  him,  raised  him,  and 
lifted  his  arms  to  heaven  in  despair. 

Andre  Vasling,  who  was  following  close  behind 
with  the  rest  of  the  sailors,  ran  up  and  cried,  — 

"  It  is  one  of  the  castaways !  It  is  our  sailor 
Courtois  ! " 

"  He  is  dead,"  replied  Penellan.  "  Frozen  to 
death  !  " 

Jean  Cornbutte  and  Marie  came  up  beside  the 
corpse,  which  was  already  stiifened  by  the  ice. 
Despair  was  written  on  every  face.  The  dead  man 
was  one  of  the  comrades  of  Louis  Cornbutte  ! 

"  Forward  !  "  cried  Penellan. 

They  went  on  for  half  an  hour,  in  perfect  si- 


234  A  Whiter  in  the  Ice. 

lence,  and  perceived  an  elevation  which  seemed 
without  doubt  to  be  land. 

"  It  is  Shannon  Island,"  said  Jean  Cornbutte. 

A  mile  farther  on  they  distinctly  perceived 
smoke,  escaping  from  a  snow-hut,  closed  by  a 
wooden  door.  They  shouted.  Two  men  rushed 
out  of  the  hut,  and  Penellan  recognized  one  of 
them  as  Pieri^e  Nouquet. 

"  Pierre  !  "  he  cried. 

Pierre  stood  still  as  if  stunned,  and  unconscious 
of  what  was  going  on  around  him.  Andre  Vasling 
looked  at  Pierre  Nouquet's  companion  with  anxi- 
ety mingled  with  a  cruel  joy  ;  for  he  did  not  rec- 
ognize Louis  Cornbutte  in  him. 

"  Pierre  !  it  is  I  !  "  cried  Penellan.  "  These  are 
all  your  friends  !  " 

Pierre  Noiiquet  recovered  his  senses,  and  fell 
into  his  old  comrade's  arms. 

"  And  my  son,  - —  and  Louis  !  "  cried  Jean  Corn- 
butte, in  an  accent  of  the  most  profound  despair. 


A   Winter  in  the  Ice.  235 

XII. 

THE   RETURN    TO    THE   SHIP. 

ilT  this  moment  a  man,  almost  dead, 
dragged  himself  out  of  the  hut  and  along 
the  ice. 

It  was  Louis  Cornbutte. 

"  My  son  !  " 

"  My  beloved  !  " 

These  two  cries  were  uttered  at  the  same  time, 
and  Louis  Cornbutte  fell  fainting  into  the  arms  of 
his  father  and  Marie,  who  drew  him  towards  the 
hut,  where  their  tender  care  soon  revived  him. 

"  My  father  !  Marie  !  "  cried  Louis,  "  I  shall 
not  die  without  having  seen  you  !  " 

"  You  will  not  die  !  "  replied  Penellan,  "for  all 
your  friends  are  near  you." 

Andre  Vasling  must  have  hated  Louis  Corn- 
butte bitterly,  not  to  extend  his  hand  to  him ; 
but  he  did  not. 

Pierre  Nouquet  was  wild  with  joy.  He  em- 
braced everybody ;  then  he  threw  some  wood  into 
the  stove,  and  soon  a  comfortable  temperature  was 
felt  in  the  cabin. 

There  wei'e  two  men  there  whom  neither  Jean 
Cornbutte  nor  Penellan  recognized. 

They  were  Jocki  and  Herming,  the  only  two 
sailors  of  the  crew  of  the  Norwegian  schooner  who 
had  been  left. 


236  A  Winter  in  the  Ice. 

"  My  friends,  we  are  saved  ! "  said  Louis,  "  My 
father  !  Marie  !  You  have  exposed  yourselves  to 
so  many  perils  !  " 

"  We  do  not  regi'et  it,  my  Louis,"  replied  bis 
father.  "  Your  brig,  the  '  Jeune-Hardie,'  is  secure- 
ly anchored  in  the  ice  sixty  leagues  from  here. 
We  will  rejoin  her  all  together." 

"  When  Courtois  comes  back,  he  '11  be  mightily 
pleased,"  said  Pierre  Nouquet. 

A  mournful  silence  followed  this,  and  Penellan 
apprised  Pierre  and  Louis  of  their  comrade's  death 
by  cold. 

"■  My  friends,"  said  Penellan,  "  we  will  wait  here 
until  the  cold  decreases.  Have  you  provisions  and 
wood  I " 

"  Yes  j  and  we  will  burn  what  is  left  of  the 
'  Frooern.' " 

The  "Frooern"  had  indeed  been  driven  to  a 
place  forty  miles  from  w^iere  Louis  Cornbutte  had 
taken  up  his  winter  quarters.  She  was  broken  up 
by  the  icebergs  floated  by  the  thaw,  and  the 
castaways  were  carried,  with  a  part  of  the  debris 
of  their  cabin,  on  the  southern  shores  of  Shannon 
Island. 

They  were  then  five  in  number,  —  Louis  Corn- 
butte, Courtois,  PieiTC  Nouquet,  Jocki,  and  Her- 
ming.  As  for  the  rest  of  the  Norwegian  crew,  they 
had  been  submei-ged  with  the  long-boat  at  the  mo- 
ment of  the  wreck. 

When  Louis  Cornbutte,  drawn  in  among  the 
ice,  saw  this  close  around  him,  he  took  every  pre- 
caution for  passing  the  winter.  He  was  an  ener- 
getic man,  very  active  and  com-ageous  ;  but  despite 


A   Winter  in  the  Ice.  237 

his  firmness,  he  had  been  subdued  by  this  horrible 
climate,  and  when  his  father  found  him,  he  had 
given  up  all  hope  of  life.  He  had  not  only  had 
to  contend  with  the  elements,  but  with  the  ugly 
temper  of  the  two  Norwegian  sailors,  who  owed 
him  their  existence.  They  were  a  sort  of  savages, 
almost  inaccessible  to  the  most  natural  emotions. 
When  Louis  had  the  opportunity  to  talk  to  Penel- 
lan,  he  advised  him  to  watch  them  carefully.  In 
return,  Penellan  told  him  of  Andr^  Vasling's  con- 
duct. Louis  could  not  believe  it ;  but  Penellan 
convinced  him  that  after  his  disappearance,  Vasling 
had  always  acted  so  as  to  secin-e  Marie's  hand. 

The  whole  day  was  employed  in  rest  and  the 
pleasures  of  reunion.  Misonne  and  Pierre  Nouquet 
killed  some  sea-birds  near  the  hut,  whence  it  was 
not  prudent  to  stvaj  far.  These  fresh  provisions 
and  the  i-eplenished  fire  raised  the  spirits  of  the 
weakest.  Louis  Cornbutte  got  visibly  better.  It 
was  the  first  moment  of  happiness  these  brave 
people  had  experienced.  They  celebrated  it  with 
enthusiasm  in  this  wi-etched  hut,  six  hundred 
leagues  from  the  North  Sea,  in  a  temperature  of 
thirty  degrees  below  zero  ! 

This  temperature  lasted  till  the  end  of  the 
moon,  and  it  was  not  until  about  the  17th  of 
November,  a  week  after  their  meeting,  that  Jean 
Cornbutte  and  his  party  could  think  of  setting 
out.  They  only  had  the  light  of  the  stars  to  guide 
them  ;  but  the  cold  was  less  extreme,  and  even 
some  snow  fell. 

Before  quitting  this  i)lace,  a  grave  was  dug  for 
poor   Courtois.      It   was    a  sad   ceremony,   which 


238  A  Winter  in  the  Ice. 

deeply  affected  his  comrades  ;  he  was  the  only  one 
who  would  not  again  see  his  native  land. 

Misonne  had  constructed,  with  the  planks  of  the 
cabin,  a  sort  of  sledge  for  cai'rying  the  provisions, 
and  the  sailors  drew  it  by  turns.  Jean  Cornbutte 
led  the  expedition  by  the  ways  already  traversed. 
Camps  were  established  with  great  promptness, 
when  the  times  for  repose  came.  Jean  Cornbutte 
hoped  to  find  his  deposits  of  provisions  again,  as 
they  had  become  wellnigh  indispensable  by  the 
addition  of  four  persons  to  the  party.  He  was 
therefore  very  careful  not  to  diverge  from  the 
route  by  which  he  had  come. 

By  good  fortune  he  recovered  his  sledge,  which 
had  stranded  near  the  promontory  where  they  had 
all  run  so  many  dangers.  The  dogs,  after  eating 
their  straps  to  satisfy  their  hunger,  had  attacked 
the  provisions  in  the  sledge.  These  had  sustained 
them,  and  they  served  to  guide  the  party  to  the 
sledge,  where  there  was  a  considerable  quantity  of 
provisions  left.  The  little  band  resumed  its  march 
toward  the  bay.  The  dogs  were  harnessed  to  the 
sledge,  and  no  event  of  interest  attended  the  return. 

It  was  observed  that  Aupic,  Andre  Vasling,  and 
the  Norwegians  kept  aloof  and  did  not  mingle 
with  the  others  ;  but,  unbeknown  to  themselves, 
they  were  narrowly  watched.  This  germ  of  dis- 
sension more  than  once  aroused  the  fears  of  Louis 
Cornbutte  and  Penellan. 

About  the  7th  of  December,  twenty  days  after 
the  discovery  of  the  castaways,  they  perceived  the 
bay  where  the  "  Jeune-Hardie  "  was  lying.  What 
was  their  astonishment  to  see  the  brig  perched  four 


A   Winter  in  the  Ice.  239 

yards  in  the  air,  on  blocks  of  ice  !  They  hurried 
forward,  much  alarmed  for  their  companions,  and 
were  received  with  joyous  cries  by  Gervique,  Tur- 
quiette,  and  Gradlin.  All  of  them  were  in  good 
health,  though  they  too  had  been  subjected  to 
foi'midable  dangers. 

The  tempest  had  made  itself  felt  throughout 
the  polar  sea.  The  ice  had  been  broken  and  dis- 
placed, crushed  one  piece  against  another,  and  had 
seized  the  bed  on  w^hich  the  ship  rested.  Its 
specific  weight  tending  to  carry  it  under  water, 
the  ice  had  acquired  an  incalculable  force,  and  the 
brig  had  been  suddenly  raised  up  out  of  the  sea. 

The  first  moments  were  given  up  to  the  happi- 
ness inspired  by  the  safe  return.  The  exploring 
party  were  rejoiced  to  find  everything  in  good  con- 
dition, which  assured  them  a  supportable  though 
it  might  be  a  rough  winter.  The  ship  had  not 
been  shaken  by  her  sudden  elevation,  and  was 
perfectly  tight.  When  the  season  of  thawing 
came,  they  would  only  have  to  slide  her  down  an 
inclined  plane,  to  launch  her,  in  a  word,  in  the 
once  more  open  sea. 

But  a  bad  piece  of  news  spread  gloom  on  the 
faces  of  Jean  Corubutte  and  his  comrades.  During 
the  terrible  gale  the  snow  storehouse  on  the  coast 
had  been  quite  demolished ;  the  provisions  which 
it  contained  wei'e  scattered,  and  it  had  not  been 
possible  to  save  a  morsel  of  them.  When  Jean 
and  Louis  Cornbutte  learned  this,  they  visited  the 
hold  and  steward's  room,  to  ascertain  the  quantity 
of  provisions  whicli  still  remained. 

The  thaw  would  not  come  until  May,  and  the 


240  A  Winter  in  the  Ice. 

brig  could  not  leave  the  bay  before  that  period. 
They  had  therefore  five  winter  months  before 
them,  to  pass  amid  the  ice,  during  which  fourteen 
persons  were  to  be  fed.  Having  made  his  calcu- 
lations, Jean  Cornbutte  found  that  he  would  at 
most  be  able  to  keep  them  alive  till  the  time  for 
departure,  by  putting  each  and  all  on  half-rations. 
Hunting  for  game  became  compulsory  to  procure 
food  in  larger  quantity. 

For  fear  that  they  might  again  run  short  of 
provisions,  it  was  decided  to  deposit  them  no 
longer  in  the  ground.  All  of  them  were  kept  on 
board,  and  beds  were  disposed  for  the  new-comers 
in  the  common  lodging.  Turquiette,  Gervique, 
and  Gradlin,  dui-ing  the  absence  of  the  others, 
had  hollowed  out  a  flight  of  steps  in  the  ice, 
which  enabled  them  to  easily  reach  the  ship's 
deck. 


A  Winter  in  the  Ice.  241 

XIII. 

THE    TWO    RIVALS. 

^NDRE  VASLING  had  been  cultivating 
the  good  -  will  of  the  two  Norwegian 
sailors.  Aupic  also  made  one  of  their 
band,  and  held  himself  apart,  with  loud 
disapproval  of  all  the  new  measures  taken ;  but 
Louis  Conibutte,  to  whom  his  father  had  trans- 
feiTed  the  command  of  the  ship,  and  who  had 
become  once  more  master  on  board,  would  listen 
to  no  objections  from  that  quarter,  and  in  spite 
of  Marie's  advice  to  act  gently,  made  it  known 
that  he  intended  to  be  obeyed  on  all  points. 

Nevertheless,  the  two  Norwegians  succeeded, 
two  days  after,  in  getting  possession  of  a  box  of 
salt  meat.  Louis  ordered  them  to  return  it  to 
him  on  the  spot,  but  Aupic  took  their  part,  and 
Andre  Vasling  declared  that  the  measui-es  relative 
to  the  food  could  not  be  any  longer  enforced. 

It  was  useless  to  attempt  to  show  these  men  that 
these  measures  were  for  the  common  interest,  for 
they  knew  it  well,  and  only  sought  a  pretext  to 
revolt. 

Penellan  advanced  towards  the  Norwegians,  who 
drew  their  cutlasses  ;  but,  aided  by  Misonne  and 
Turquiette,  he  succeeded  in  snatching  the  weapons 
from  their  hands,  and  gained  possession  of  the  salt 
meat.  Andre  Vasling  and  Aupic,  seeing  that 
n  P 


242  A  Winter  in  the  Ice. 

matters  were  going  against  them,  did  not  inter- 
fere. Louis  Cornbutte,  however,  took  the  mate 
aside,  and  said  to  him,  — 

"  Andr6  Vasling,  you  are  a  wretch !  I  know 
your  whole  conduct,  and  I  know  what  inspires 
it ;  but  as  the  safety  of  the  whole  crew  is  confided 
to  me,  if  any  man  of  you  thinks  of  conspiring 
to  destroy  them,  I  will  stab  him  with  my  own 
hand  ! " 

"  Louis  Cornbutte,"  replied  the  mate,  "  it  is 
allowable  to  you  to  act  the  master ;  but  re- 
member that  absolute  obedience  does  not  exist 
here,  and  that  the  strongest  alone  here  makes 
the  law^" 

Marie  had  never  trembled  before  the  dangers  of 
the  polar  seas  ;  but  she  was  terrified  by  this  hatred, 
of  which  she  w^as  the  cause,  and  the  captain's  vigor 
hardly  reassiu'ed  her. 

Despite  this  declaration  of  war,  the  meals  were 
partaken  of  in  common  and  at  the  same  hours. 
Hunting  furnished  some  ptarmigans  and  white 
hares ;  but  this  resource  would  soon  fail  them, 
amid  the  approaching  terrible  cold  weather.  This 
began  at  the  solstice,  on  the  22d  of  December, 
on  which  day  the  thermometer  fell  to  thirty-five 
degrees  below  zero.  The  men  experienced  pain 
in  their  ears,  noses,  and  the  extremities  of  their 
bodies.  They  were  seized  with  a  mortal  torpor, 
mixed  with  headache,  and  their  breathing  became 
more  and  more  diflicult. 

In  this  state  they  had  no  longer  any  courage  to 
go  hunting  or  to  take  any  exercise.  They  remained 
avouched  around  the  stove,  which  gave  them  but  a 


A   Winter  in  the  Ice.  243 

meagre  heat ;  and  when  they  went  away  from  it, 
they  perceived  that  their  blood  suddenly  cooled. 

Jean  Cornbutte's  health  was  seriously  impaired, 
and  he  could  no  longer  qiiit  his  lodging.  Symptoms 
of  scurvy  manifested  themselves  in  him,  and  his 
legs  were  soon  covered  with  white  spots.  Marie 
was  well,  however,  and  occupied  herself  tending 
the  sick  ones  with  the  zeal  of  a  sister  of  charity. 
The  honest  fellows  blessed  her  from  the  bottom 
of  their  hearts. 

The  1st  of  January  was  one  of  the  gloomiest  of 
these  winter  days.  The  wind  was  violent,  and  the 
cold  insupportable.  They  could  not  go  out,  except 
at  the  risk  of  being  frozen.  The  most  courageous 
were  fain  to  limit  themselves  to  walking  on  deck, 
sheltered  by  the  tent.  Jean  Conibutte,  Gervique, 
and  Gradlin  did  not  leave  their  beds.  The  two 
Norwegians,  Aupic,  and  Andre  Vasling,  whose 
health  was  good,  cast  ferocious  looks  at  their 
companions,  whom  they  saw  wasting  away. 

Louis  Cornbutte  led  Penellan  on  deck,  and 
asked  him  how  much  fire  material  was  left. 

"  The  coal  was  exhausted  long  ago,"  replied 
Penellan,  "  and  we  are  about  to  burn  our  last 
pieces  of  wood." 

*'  If  we  are  not  able  to  keep  off  this  cold,  we 
are  lost,"  said  Louis. 

"  There  still  remains  a  way,"  said  Penellan,  — 
"  to  burn  what  we  can  of  tlie  brig,  from  the  barri- 
cading to  the  water-line  ;  and  we  can  even,  if  need 
be,  demolish  her  entirely,  and  rebuild  a  smaller 
craft." 

"  That  is  an   extreme   means,"  replied   Louis, 


244  A   Winter  in  the  Ice. 

"  which  it  will  be  full  time  to  employ  when  our 
men  are  well.  For,"  he  added  in  a  low  voice, 
"  our  force  is  diminishing,  and  that  of  our  enemies 
seems  to  be  increasing.     That  is  extraordinary," 

"  It  is  true,"  said  Penellan  ;  "  and  unless  we 
took  the  precaution  to  watch  night  and  day,  I 
know  not  what  would  happen  to  us." 

"  Let  us  take  our  hatchets,"  returned  Louis, 
"  and  make  our  harvest  of  wood." 

Despite  the  cold,  they  mounted  on  the  forward 
barricading,  and  cut  off  all  the  wood  which  was 
not  indispensably  necessary  to  the  ship ;  then 
they  returned  with  this  new  provision.  The  fire 
was  started  afresh,  and  a  man  remained  on  guard 
to  prevent  it  from  going  out. 

Meanwhile  Louis  Cornbutte  and  his  friends  were 
soon  tired  out.  They  could  not  confide  any  de- 
tail of  the  life  in  common  to  their  enemies.  Charged 
with  all  the  domestic  cares,  their  forces  were  soon 
exhausted.  The  scurvy  betrayed  itself  in  Jean 
Cornbutte,  who  suffered  intolerable  pain.  Gervique 
and  Gradlin  showed  symptoms  of  the  same  disease. 
Had  it  not  been  for  the  lemon-juice  with  which 
they  were  abundantly  furnislied,  they  would  have 
speedily  succumbed  to  their  sufferings.  This  rem- 
edy was  not  spared  in  relieving  them. 

But  one  day,  the  15th  of  January,  when  Louis 
Cornbutte  went  down  into  the  steward's  room 
to  get  some  lemons,  he  was  stupefied  to  find  that 
the  ban-els  in  which  they  were  kept  had  disap- 
peared. He  hurried  up  and  told  Penellan  of  this 
misfortune.  A  theft  had  been  committed,  and  it 
was  easy  to  recognize  its  authors.    Louis  Cornbutte 


A  Winter  in  the  Ice.  245 

then  understood  why  the  health  of  his  enemies 
continued  so  good  !  His  friends  were  no  longer 
strong  enough  to  take  the  lemons  away  fi'om  them, 
though  his  life  and  that  of  his  comrades  depended 
on  the  fi'uit ;  and  he  now  sank,  for  the  first  time, 
into  a  gloomy  state  of  despair. 


246  A   Winter  in  the  Ice. 


XIV. 

DISTRESS. 


N  the  20th  of  January  the  larger  part  of 
the  crew  had  not  the  strength  to  leave 
their  beds.  Each,  independently  of  his 
woollen  coverings,  had  a  buffalo-skin  to 
protect  him  against  the  cold  ;  but  as  soon  as  he 
put  his  arms  outside  the  clothes,  he  felt  a  pain 
which  obliged  him  quickly  to  cover  them  again. 

Meanwhile,  Louis  having  lit  the  stove  fire, 
Penellau,  Misonne,  and  Andr6  Vasling  left  their 
beds  and  crouched  around  it.  Penellau  prepared 
some  boiling  coflFee,  which  gave  them  some  strength, 
as  well  as  Marie,  who  joined  them  in  partaking 
of  it. 

Louis  Cornbutte  approached  his  father's  bedside ; 
the  old  man  was  almost  motionless,  and  his  limbs 
were  helpless  from  disease.  He  muttered  some  dis- 
connected words,  which  carried  grief  to  his  son's 
heart. 

"Louis,"  said  he,  "I  am  going  to  die.  0,  how 
I  suffer  !     Save  me  !  " 

Louis  took  a  decisive  resolution.  He  went  up 
to  the  mate,  and,  controlling  himself  with  difficulty, 
said,  — 

"  Do  you  know  where  the  lemons  are,  Vasling  1 " 

"  In  the  steward's  room,  I  suppose,"  returned 
the  mate,  without  stirring. 


A   Winter  in  the  Ice.  247 

"You  know  they  are  not  there,  as  you  have 
stolen  them." 

"  You  are  the  master,  Louis  Combutte,  and  may 
say  and  do  anything." 

"For  pity's  sake,  Andrd  Vashng,  my  father  is 
dying  !     You  can  save  him,  —  answer  !  " 

"  I  have  nothing  to  answer,"  rephed  Andre 
Vashng. 

"  Wretch  !  "  cried  Penellan,  throwing  himself, 
cutlass  in  hand,  on  the  mate. 

"  Help,  friends  ! "  shouted  Vasling,  retreating. 

Aupic  and  the  two  Norwegian  sailors  jumped 
from  their  beds  and  placed  themselves  behind  him. 
Turquiette,  Penellan,  and  Louis  prepared  to  de- 
fend themselves.  Pierre  Nouquet  and  Gradlin, 
though  ill,  rose  to  second  them. 

"  You  are  still  too  strong  for  us,"  said  Vasling. 
"  We  do  not  wish  to  fight  on  an  uncertainty." 

The  sailors  were  so  weak  that  they  dared  not 
attack  the  four  rebels,  for,  had  they  failed,  they 
would  have  been  lost. 

"'  Andre  Vasling,"  said  Louis  Cornbutte,  in  a 
gloomy  tone,  "  if  my  father  dies,  you  will  have 
murdered  him  ;  and  I  will  kill  you  as  if  you  were 
a  dog  !  " 

Vasling  and  his  confederates  retired  to  the  other 
end  of  the  cabin,  and  did  not  reply. 

It  was  then  necessary  to  renew  the  supply  of 
wood,  and,  in  spite  of  the  cold,  Louis  went  on  deck 
and  began  to  cut  away  a  part  of  the  barricading, 
but  was  obliged  to  retreat  in  a  quarter  of  an  hour, 
for  he  was  in  danger  of  falling,  overcome  by  the 
freezing  air.     As  he  passed,  he  cast  a  glance  at  the 


248  A   Wmter  in  the  Ice. 

thermometer  left  outside,  and  saw  that  the  mercury 
was  frozen.  The  cold,  then,  exceeded  forty-two 
degrees  below  zero.  The  weather  was  dry,  and 
the  wind  blew  from  the  north. 

On  the  26th  the  wind  changed  to  the  northeast 
and  the  thermometer  outside  stood  at  thirty-five 
degrees.  Jean  Cornbutte  was  in  agony,  and  his 
son  had  searched  in  vain  for  some  remedy  with 
which  to  relieve  his  pain.  On  this  day,  however, 
throwing  himself  suddenly  on  Vasling,  he  managed 
to  snatch  a  lemon  from  him  which  he  was  about 
to  suck.  Vasling  made  no  attempt  to  recover  it. 
He  seemed  to  be  awaiting  an  opportunity  to  ac- 
complish his  wicked  designs. 

The  lemon-juice  somewhat  relieved  old  Corn- 
butte, but  it  was  necessary  to  continue  the  remedy, 
Marie  begged  Vasling  on  her  knees  to  produce  the 
lemons,  but  he  did  not  reply,  and  soon  Penellan 
heard  the  wretch  say  to  his  accomplices,  — 

"  The  old  fellow  is  dying.  Gervique,  Gradlin, 
and  Nouquet  are  not  much  better.  The  others  are 
daily  losing  their  sti'ength.  The  time  is  near  when 
their  lives  will  belong  to  us  ! " 

It  was  then  resolved  by  Louis  Cornbutte  and  his 
adherents  not  to  wait,  and  to  profit  by  the  little 
strength  which  still  remained  to  them.  They  de- 
termined to  act  the  next  night,  and  to  kill  these 
wretches,  so  as  not  to  be  killed  by  them. 

The  temperature  rose  a  little.  Louis  Cornbutte 
ventured  to  go  out  with  his  gun  in  search  of  some 
game. 

He  proceeded  some  thi'ee  miles  from  the  ship, 
and,  often  deceived  by  the  effects  of  the  mirage 


A  Winter-  in  the  Ice.  249 

and  refraction,  he  went  farther  away  than  he  in- 
tended. It  was  imprudent,  for  recent  tracks  of 
ferocious  animals  betrayed  themselves.  He  did 
not  wish,  however,  to  return  without  some  fresh 
meat,  and  continued  on  his  route  ;  but  he  then  ex- 
perienced a  strange  feeling,  which  turned  his  head. 
It  was  what  is  called  "white  vertigo." 

The  reflection  of  the  ice  hillocks  and  fields  af- 
fected him  from  head  to  foot,  and  it  seemed  to  him 
that  the  dazzling  color  penetrated  him  and  caused 
an  irresistible  nausea.  His  eye  was  impregnated, 
his  sight  became  wandering.  He  thought  he 
should  go  mad  with  the  whiteness.  Without  fully 
understanding  this  terrible  effect,  he  advanced  on  his 
way,  and  soon  raised  a  ptarmigan,  which  he  eagerly 
pursued.  The  bird  was  speedily  sliot,  and  in  order 
to  reach  it  Louis  leaped  from  an  ice-block  and  fell 
heavily  ;  for  the  leap  was  at  least  ten  feet,  and  the 
refraction  made  him  think  it  was  only  two.  The 
vertigo  then  seized  him,  and,  without  knowing 
why,  he  began  to  call  for  help,  though  he  had  not 
been  injured  by  the  fall.  The  cold  began  to  take 
him,  and  he  painfully  rose,  urged  by  the  sense  of 
self-preservation. 

Of  a  sudden,  without  being  able  to  account  for 
it,  he  smelt  an  odor  of  boiling  fat.  As  he  was  in 
the  wind  coming  from  the  ship,  he  supposed  that 
this  odor  proceeded  from  her,  and  could  not  im- 
agine why  they  should  be  cooking  fat ;  this  being 
a  dangerous  thing  to  do,  as  likely  to  attract  thither 
the  white  bears. 

Louis  returned  towards  the  ship,  absorbed  in 
reflections  which  soon  inspired  his  excited  mind 
11* 


250  A  Winter  in  the  Ice. 

with  terroi'.  It  seemed  to  him  as  if  colossal  masses 
were  moving  on  the  horizon,  and  he  asked  himself 
if  there  was  not  still  a  quaking  of  the  ice.  Several 
of  these  masses  interposed  themselves  between  him 
and  the  ship,  and  appeared  to  rise  about  its  sides. 
He  stopped  to  gaze  at  them  more  attentively,  when 
he  recognized  a  herd  of  gigantic  bears. 

These  animals  had  been  attracted  by  the  odor 
of  grea"se  which  had  surprised  Louis.  He  shel- 
tered himself  behind  a  hillock,  and  counted  three 
which  were  scaling  the  blocks  on  which  the 
"  Jeune-Hardie  "  was  resting. 

Nothing  led  him  to  suppose  that  this  danger 
was  known  on  the  interior  of  the  ship,  and  a  ter- 
rible anguish  oppressed  his  heart.  How  resist 
these  redoiibtable  enemies  1  Would  Andre  Vas- 
ling  and  his  confederates  unite  with  the  rest  on 
board  in  the  common  peril  1  Could  Penellan  and 
the  others,  half  starved,  benumbed  with  cold,  re- 
sist these  formidable  beasts,  made  wild  by  unas- 
suaged  hunger  1  Would  they  not  be  surprised  by 
an  unlooked-for  attack  1 

Louis  made  these  reflections  rapidly.  The  bears 
had  crossed  the  blocks,  and  were  mounting  to  the 
assault  of  the  ship.  He  might  then  quit  the  block 
which  protected  him ;  he  went  nearer,  clinging  to 
the  ice,  and  could  soon  see  the  enormous  animals 
tearing  the  tent  with  their  paws  and  leaping  on 
the  deck.  He  thought  of  firing  his  gun  to  give 
his  comrades  notice  ;  but  if  these  came  up  without 
arms,  they  would  inevitably  be  torn  in  pieces,  and 
nothing  indicated  that  they  were  aware  of  their 
new  danger. 


A  Winter  in  the  Ice,  251 


XV. 

THE   WHITE    BEARS. 


[IFTER  Louis  Combutte's  departure,  Penel- 
lau  had  carefully  shut  the  cabin  door, 
which  opened  at  the  foot  of  the  deck 
steps.  He  returned  to  the  stove,  which 
he  took  it  upon  himself  to  watch,  whilst  his  com- 
panions regained  their  berths  in  search  of  a  little 
heat. 

It  was  then  six  in  the  evening,  and  Penellan  set 
about  preparing  supper.  He  went  down  into  the 
steward's  room  for  some  salt  meat,  which  he 
wished  to  soak  in  the  boiHng  water.  When  he 
returned,  he  found  Andre  Vashng  in  his  place, 
cooking  some  pieces  of  grease  in  a  basin. 

"  I  was  there  before  you,"  said  Penellan,  roughly  ; 
"  why  have  you  taken  my  place  1 " 

"  For  the  same  reason  that  you  claim  it,"  re- 
turned Vasling.  "  Because  I  want  to  cook  my 
supper." 

"  You  will  take  that  off  at  once,  or  we  shall  see  !  " 

"  We  shall  see  nothing,"  said  Vasling ;  "  my  sup- 
per shall  be  cooked  in  spite  of  you." 

"You  will  not  eat  it,  then,"  cried  Penellan,  rush- 
ing upon  Vasling,  who  seized  his  cutlass,  crying,  — 

"  Help,  Norwegians  !     Help,  Aupic  !  " 

These,  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  sprang  to  their 
feet,  ai'med  with  pistols  and  daggers. 


252  A   Winter  in  the  Ice. 

Penellan  precipitated  himself  upon  Vasling,  to 
whom,  no  doubt,  was  confided  the  task  to  fight 
him  alone  ;  for  his  accomplices  rushed  to  the  beds 
where  lay  Misonne,  Turquiette,  and  Nouquet.  The 
lattei",  ill  and  defenceless,  was  delivered  over  to 
Herming's  ferocity.  The  carpenter  seized  a  hatchet, 
and,  leaving  his  berth,  hurried  up  to  encounter 
Aupic.  Turquiette  and  the  Norwegian  Jocki  strug- 
gled fiercely.  Gervique  and  Gradlin,  suffering  hor- 
ribly, were  not  even  conscious  of  what  was  passing 
around  them. 

Nouquet  soon  received  a  stab  in  the  side,  and 
Herming  turned  to  Penellan,  who  was  fighting 
desperately.  Andre  Vasling  had  seized  him  around 
the  body. 

At  the  beginning  of  the  affray  the  basin  had 
been  upset  on  the  stove,  and  the  grease,  spreading 
on  the  burning  coals,  impregnated  the  atmosphere 
with  its  odor.  Marie  rose  with  cries  of  despair, 
and  hurried  to  the  bed  of  old  Jean  Cornbutte. 

Vasling,  less  strong  than  Penellan,  soon  per- 
ceived that  the  latter  was  getting  the  better  of 
him.  They  were  too  close  together  to  make  use 
of  their  weapons.  The  mate,  seeing  Herming, 
cried  out,  — 

"  Help,  Herming  ! " 

"  Help,  Misonne  !  "  shouted  Penellan,  in  his  turn. 

But  Misonne  was  rolling  on  the  ground  with 
Aupic,  who  was  trying  to  stab  him  with  his  cutlass. 
The  carpenter's  hatchet  was  of  little  use  to  him, 
for  he  could  not  wield  it,  and  it  was  with  the 
greatest  difficulty  that  he  parried  the  lunges  which 
Aupic  made  with  his  knife. 


A  Winte?'  in  the  Ice.  253 

Meanwhile  blood  flowed  amid  the  groans  and 
cries.  Turquiette,  thrown  down  by  Jocki,  a  man 
of  immense  strength,  had  received  a  wound  in  the 
shoulder,  and  he  tried  in  vain  to  clutch  a  pistol 
which  hung  in  the  Norwegian's  belt.  The  latter 
held  him  as  in  a  vise,  and  it  was  imj)ossible  for  him 
to  move. 

At  Vasling's  ciy  for  help,  he  being  held  by 
Penellan  close  against  the  door,  Herming  rushed 
up.  As  he  was  about  to  stab  the  Breton's  back 
with  his  cutlass,  the  latter  felled  him  to  the  earth 
■with  a  vigorous  kick.  His  effort  to  do  this  en- 
abled Vasling  to  disengage  his  right  arm ;  but  the 
door,  against  which  they  pressed  with  all  their 
weight,  suddenly  yielded,  and  Vasling  fell  over. 

Of  a  sudden  a  terrible  growl  was  heard,  and  a 
gigantic  bear  appeared  on  the  steps.  Vasling  saw 
him  first.  He  was  not  four  feet  away  from  him. 
At  the  same  moment  a  detonation  was  heard,  and 
the  bear,  wounded  or  frightened,  retreated.  Vas- 
ling, who  had  succeeded  in  regaining  his  feet,  set 
out  in  pursuit  of  him,  abandoning  Penellan. 

Penellan  then  replaced  the  door,  and  looked 
around  him.  Misonne  and  Turquiette,  tightly 
garroted  by  their  antagonists,  had  been  thrown 
into  a  corner,  and  made  vain  efforts  to  break 
loose.  Penellan  rushed  to  their  assistance,  but 
was  overturned  by  the  two  Norwegians  and  Aupic. 
His  exhausted  strength  did  not  permit  him  to  re- 
sist these  three  men,  who  so  clung  to  him  as  to 
hold  him  motionless.  Then,  at  the  cries  of  the 
mate,  they  hurried  on  deck,  thinking  that  Louis 
Cornbutte  was  to  be  encountered. 


254  A   Winter  in  the  Ice. 

Andr^  Vasliiig  was  struggling  with  a  bear,  which 
he  had  ah'eady  twice  stabbed  with  his  knife.  The 
animal,  beating  the  air  with  his  heavy  paws,  was 
trying  to  clutch  Vasling.  He,  retiring  little  by 
little  on  the  barricading,  seemed  to  be  doomed, 
when  a  second  denotation  was  heard.  The  bear 
fell.  Andre  Vasling  raised  his  head  and  saw 
Louis  Cornbutte  in  the  ratlines  of  the  mizzen- 
mast,  his  gun  in  his  hand.  Louis  had  shot  the 
bear  in  the  heart,  and  he  was  dead. 

Hate  overcame  gratitude  in  Vasling's  breast ; 
but  before  satisfying  it,  he  looked  around  him. 
Aupic's  head  was  broken  by  a  paw-stroke,  and  lay 
lifeless  on  deck.  Jocki,  hatchet  in  hand,  was 
with  difficulty  parrying  the  blows  of  the  second 
bear,  which  had  just  killed  Aupic.  The  animal 
had  received  two  wounds,  and  still  struggled  des- 
perately. A  third  bear  was  directing  his  way 
towards  the  ship's  prow.  Vasling  paid  no  atten- 
tion to  him,  but,  followed  by  Herming,  went  to 
the  aid  of  Jocki ;  but  Jocki,  seized  by  the  beast's 
paws,  was  crushed,  and  when  the  bear  fell  under 
tlie  shots  of  the  other  two  men,  he  held  only  a 
corpse  in  his  shaggy  arms. 

"  We  are  only  two,  now,"  said  Vasling,  with 
gloomy  ferocity,  "  but  if  we  yield,  it  will  not  be 
without  vengeance  !  " 

Herming  reloaded  his  pistol  without  replying. 
Before  all,  the  third  bear  must  be  got  rid  of.  Vas- 
ling looked  forward,  but  did  not  see  him.  On 
raising  his  eyes,  he  jjerceived  him  erect  on  the 
barricading,  clinging  to  the  ratlines  and  trying  to 
reach  Louis.    Vasling  let  his  gun  fall,  and  directed 


A  Winter  in  the  Ice.  255 

it  towards  his  enemy,  while  a  fierce  joy  ghttered 
in  his  eyes. 

"  Ah,"  he  cried,  "  you  owe  me  that  vengeance  !  " 

Louis  took  refuge  in  the  top  of  the  mast.  The 
bear  kept  mounting,  and  was  not  more  than  six 
feet  from  Louis,  when  he  raised  his  oun  and 
pointed  it  at  the  animal's  heart. 

Vasling  raised  his  weapon  to  shoot  Louis  if  the 
bear  fell. 

Louis  fired,  but  the  bear  did  not  appear  to  be 
hit,  for  he  leaped  with  a  bound  towards  the  top. 
The  whole  mast  shook. 

Vasling  uttered  a  shout  of  exultation. 

"  Herming,"  he  cried,  "go  and  find  Marie  !  Go 
and  find  my  betrothed  !  " 

Herming  descended  the  cabin  stairs. 

Meanwhile  the  furious  beast  had  thrown  him- 
self upon  Louis,  who  was  trying  to  shelter  himself 
on  the  other  side  of  the  mast;  but  at  the  moment 
that  his  enormous  paw  was  raised  to  break  his 
head,  Louis,  seizing  one  of  the  backstays,  let  him- 
self slip  down  to  the  deck,  not  without  danger, 
for  a  ball  hissed  by  his  ear  when  he  was  half-way 
down.  Vasling  had  shot  at  him,  and  missed  him. 
The  two  adversaries  now  confronted  each  other, 
cutlass  in  hand. 

The  combat  was  about  to  become  decisive.  To 
entirely  glut  his  vengeance,  and  to  have  the  young 
girl  witness  her  lover's  death,  Vasling  had  deprived 
himself  of  Herming's  aid.  He  could  now  reckon 
only  on  himself. 

Louis  and  Vasling  seized  each  other  by  the  col- 
lar, and  held  each  other  with  iron  grip.     One  of 


25G  A   Winter  in  the  Ice. 

them  must  fall  dead.  They  struck  each  other 
violently.  The  blows  were  onlj^  half  parried,  for 
blood  soon  flowed  from  both.  Vasling  tried  to 
clasp  his  adversary  about  the  neck  with  his  arm, 
to  bring  him  to  the  ground.  Louis,  knowing  that 
he  who  fell  was  lost,  prevented  him,  and  succeeded 
in  grasping  his  two  arms ;  but  in  doing  this  he 
let  fall  his  cutlass. 

Piteous  ci'ies  now  assailed  his  ears  ;  it  was  Ma- 
rie's voice.  Herming  was  trying  to  drag  her  up. 
Louis  was  seized  with  a  desperate  rage.  He  stif- 
fened himself  to  bend  Vasling's  loins  ;  but  at  this 
moment  the  combatants  felt  themselves  seized  in 
a  powerful  embrace.  The  bear,  having  descended 
from  the  mast,  had  fallen  upon  the  two  men.  Vas- 
ling was  pressed  against  the  animal's  body.  Louis 
felt  his  claw^s  entering  his  flesh.  The  bear  was 
strangling  both  of  them. 

"  Help  !  help  !   Hei-ming  !  "  cried  the  mate. 

"  Help  !  Penellan  !  "  cried  Louis. 

Steps  were  heard  on  the  stairs.  Penellan  ap- 
peared, loaded  his  pistol,  and  discharged  it  in  the 
bear's  ear  ;  he  roared ;  the  pain  made  him  I'elax 
his  paws  for  a  moment,  and  Louis,  exhausted,  fell 
motionless  on  the  deck ;  but  the  bear,  closing  his 
paws  tightly  in  a  supreme  agony,  fell,  di'aggiug 
down  the  wretched  Vasling,  whose  body  was  crushed 
under  him. 

Penellan  hurried  to  Louis  Cornbutte's  assistance. 
No  serious  wound  endangered  his  life  ;  he  had  only 
lost  his  breath  for  a  moment. 

"  Marie  !  "  he  said,  opening  his  eyes. 

"  Saved  1 "  replied  Penellan.  "  Herming  is  ly- 
ing there  with  a  knife-wound  in  his  stomach." 


A  Winter  in  the  Ice.  257 

"  And  the  beai's  —  " 

"  Dead,  Louis  ;  dead,  like  our  enemies  !  But 
for  those  beasts  we  should  have  been  lost.  Truly, 
they  came  to  our  succor.  Let  us,  then,  thank 
Providence  !  " 

Louis  and  Penellan  descended  to  the  cabin,  and 
Marie  fell  into  their  arms. 


2oS  A  Winter  in  the  Ice. 


XVI. 

CONCLUSION. 

ERMING,  mortally  wounded,  had  been 
carried  to  a  berth  by  Misouue  and  Tur- 
quiette,  who  had  succeeded  in  getting  free. 
He  was  already  at  the  last  gasp  of  death  ; 
and  the  two  sailors  occupied  themselves  with  Xou- 
quet,  whose  wound  was  not,  happily,  a  serious 
one. 

But  a  greater  misfortune  had  overtaken  Louis 
Cornbutte.  His  father  no  longer  gave  any  signs 
of  life.  Had  he  died  of  anxiety  for  his  son,  deliv- 
ered over  to  his  enemies  1  Had  he  succumbed  in 
presence  of  these  terrible  events  1  They  could  not 
tell.  But  the  poor  old  sailor,  broken  by  disease, 
had  ceased  to  live  ! 

At  this  unexpected  blow  Louis  and  Marie  fell 
into  a  sad  despair ;  then  they  kneeled  at  the  bed- 
side and  wept,  and  prayed  for  Jean  Cornbutte's 
soul.  Penellan,  Misonne,  and  Turquiette  left  them 
alone  in  the  cabin,  and  went  on  deck.  The  bodies 
of  the  three  bears  were  carried  forward.  Penellan 
decided  to  keep  their  skins,  which  would  be  of  no 
little  use  ;  but  he  did  not  think  for  a  moment  of 
eating  their  flesh.  Besides,  the  number  of  men  to 
feed  was  now  much  decreased.  The  bodies  of 
Vasling,  Aupic,  and  Jocki,  thrown  into  a  hole  dug 
on  the  coast,  wei'e  soon  i-ejoined  by  tliat  of  Her- 


A  Winter  in  the  Ice.  259 

ming.  The  Norwegian  died  during  the  night, 
without  repentance  or  remorse,  foaming  at  the 
mouth  with  rage. 

Tlie  three  sailors  repaired  the  tent,  which,  torn 
in  several  places,  pennitted  the  snow  to  fall  on 
the  deck.  The  temperature  was  exceedingly  cold, 
and  lasted  till  the  return  of  the  sun,  which  did 
not  reappear  above  the  horizon  till  the  8th  of 
January. 

Jean  Cornbutte  was  buried  on  the  coast.  He 
hud  left  his  native  land  to  find  his  son,  and  had 
died  in  these  terrible  regions  !  His  gi-ave  was  dug 
on  an  eminence,  and  the  sailors  placed  over  it  a 
simple  wooden  ci"oss. 

From  that  day,  Louis  Cornbutte  and  his  com- 
rades passed  through  many  other  trials ;  but  the 
lemons,  which  they  found,  restored  them  to 
health. 

Gervique,  Gradlin,  and  Nouquet  were  able  to 
rise  from  their  berths  a  fortnight  after  these  ten-i- 
ble  events,  and  to  take  a  little  exercise. 

Soon  hunting  for  game  became  more  easy  and 
its  results  more  abundant.  The  watei'-birds  re- 
turned in  large  numbers.  They  often  brought 
down  a  kind  of  wild  duck  which  made  excellent 
food.  The  hunters  had  no  other  deprivation  to 
deplore  than  that  of  two  dogs,  which  they  lost  in 
an  expedition  to  reconnoitre  the  state  of  the  ice- 
fields, twenty-five  miles  to  the  southward. 

The  month  of  Februai-y  was  signalized  by  vio- 
lent tempests  and  abundant  snows.  The  mean 
temperature  was  still  twenty-five  degi-ees  below 
zero,  but  they  did  not  sufter  in  comparison  with 


260  A  Winter  in  the  Ice. 

past  hardships.  Besides,  the  sight  of  the  sun, 
which  rose  higher  aud  higher  above  the  horizon, 
rejoiced  them,  as  it  forecast  the  end  of  their  tor- 
ments. Heaven  had  pity  on  them,  for  warmth 
came  sooner  than  its  wont.  Tlie  ravens  appeared 
in  March,  careering  about  the  ship.  Louis  Corn- 
butte  captured  some  cranes  which  had  wandered 
thus  far  northward.  Flocks  of  wild  birds  were 
also  seen  in  the  south. 

The  return  of  the  birds  indicated  a  diminution 
of  the  cold ;  but  it  was  not  safe  to  rely  upon  this, 
for  with  a  change  of  wind,  or  in  the  new  or  full 
moons,  the  temperature  suddenly  fell ;  and  the 
sailors  were  forced  to  resort  to  their  most  careful 
precautions  to  protect  themselves  against  it.  They 
had  already  burned  all  the  barricading,  the  bulk- 
heads, and  a  large  portion  of  the  bridge.  It  was 
time,  then,  that  their  wintering  was  over.  Happily 
the  mean  temperature  of  March  was  not  over  six- 
teen degrees  below  zero.  Marie  occupied  herself 
■with  preparing  new  clothing  for  the  advanced  sea- 
son of  the  year. 

After  the  equinox,  the  sun  had  remained  con- 
stantly above  the  horizon.  The  eight  months  of 
perpetual  daylight  had  begun.  This  continual 
sunlight,  with  the  increasing  though  still  quite 
feeble  heat,   soon  began  to  act  upon  the  ice. 

Great  precautions  were  necessary  in  launching 
the  ship  from  the  lofty  layer  of  ice  which  sur- 
rounded her.  She  was  therefore  securely  propped 
lip,  and  it  seemed  best  to  await  the  breaking  up 
of  the  ice ;  but  the  lower  mass,  resting  on  a  bed 
of  already  warm  water,  detached  itself  little  by 


A  Winter  in  the  Ice.  261 

little,  and  the  ship  gradually  descended  with  it. 
Early  in  April  she  had  reached  her  natural  level. 

Ton-ents  of  rain  came  with  April,  which,  extend- 
ing in  waves  over  the  ice-plain,  hastened  still  more 
its  breaking  up.  The  thermometer  rose  to  ten  de- 
grees below  zero.  Some  of  the  men  took  off  their 
sealskin  clothes,  and  it  was  no  longer  necessary  to 
keep  a  fire  in  the  cabin  stove  day  and  night.  The 
provision  of  spirit,  which  was  not  exhausted,  was 
used  only  for  cooking  the  food. 

Soon  the  ice  began  to  break  up  rapidly,  and 
it  became  imprudent  to  venture  upon  the  plain 
■without  a  staff  to  sound  the  passages  ;  for  fissures 
wound  in  spirals  here  and  there.  Some  of  the 
sailors  fell  into  the  water,  with  no  worse  resxilt 
than  a  pretty  cold  bath. 

The  seals  returned,  and  they  were  often  hunted, 
and  their  gi-ease  utilized. 

The  health  of  the  crew  was  fully  restored,  and 
the  time  was  employed  in  hunting  and  prepara- 
tions for  departure.  Louis  Cornbutte  often  ex- 
amined the  channels,  and  decided,  in  consequence 
of  the  shape  of  the  southern  coast,  to  attempt  a 
passage  in  that  direction.  The  breaking  up  had 
already  begun  here  and  there,  and  the  floating  ice 
began  to  pass  off  towards  the  high  seas.  On  the 
25th  of  April  the  ship  was  put  to  rights.  The 
sails,  taken  from  their  sheaths,  were  found  to  be 
perfectly  preserved,  and  it  was  with  real  delight 
that  the  sailors  saw  them  once  more  swaying  in 
the  wind.  The  ship  gave  a  lurch,  for  she  had 
found  her  floating  line,  and  though  she  would  not 
yet  move  forward,  she  lay  quietly  and  easily  in 
her  natural  element. 


262  A   Winter  in  the  Ice. 

Ill  May  the  thaw  became  very  rapid.  The  snow 
which  covered  the  coast  melted  on  every  hand, 
and  formed  a  thick  mud,  which  made  it  welhiigh 
impossible  to  land.  Small  heathers,  rosy  and  white, 
peeped  out  timidly  above  the  lingering  snow,  and 
seemed  to  smile  at  the  little  heat  they  received. 

Twenty  miles  oft",  the  ice-masses,  entirely  sepa- 
rated, floated  towards  the  Atlantic  Ocean.  Though 
the  sea  was  not  quite  free  around'  the  ship,  passes 
opened  by  which  Louis  Cornbutte  wished  to  profit. 

On  the  21st  of  May,  after  a  parting  visit  to  his 
father's  grave,  Louis  at  last  set  out  from  the  bay. 
The  hearts  of  the  honest  sailors  were  filled  at  once 
■with  joy  and  sadness,  for  one  does  not  leave  with- 
out regret  a  place  where  a  friend  has  died.  The 
wind  blew  from  the  north,  and  favored  their  de- 
parture. The  ship  was  often  arrested  by  ice-banks, 
which  were  cut  with  the  saws  ;  icebergs  not  seldom 
confronted  her,  and  it  was  necessary  to  blow  them 
vip  with  powder.  For  a  month  the  way  was  full 
of  perils,  which  sometimes  brought  the  ship  to  the 
verge  of  destruction ;  but  the  crew  was  sturdy, 
and  used  to  these  dangerous  exigencies.  Penel- 
lan,  Pierre  Nouquet,  Turquiette,  Fidele  Misonne, 
did  the  work  of  ten  sailors,  and  Marie  had  smiles 
of  gratitude  for  each. 

The  "  Jeune-Hardie"  at  last  passed  beyond  the 
ice  in  the  latitude  of  Jean-Mayer  Island.  About 
the  2.5th  of  June  she  met  ships  going  northward 
for  seals  and  whales.  She  had  been  nearly  a 
month  emerging  from  the  Polar  Sea. 

On  the  16th  of  August  she  came  in  view  of 
Dunkirk.     She  had  been  signalled  by  the  lookout. 


A  Winter  in  the  Ice.  263 

and  the  whole  population  flocked  to  the  jetty.  The 
sailoi'S  of  the  ship  were  soon  clasped  in  the  arms 
of  their  friends.  The  old  cure  received  Louis 
Cornbutte  and  Marie  with  patriarchal  arms,  and 
of  the  two  masses  which  he  said  on  the  following- 
day,  the  first  was  for  the  repose  of  Jean  Corn- 
butte's  soul,  and  the  second  to  bless  these  two 
level's,  so  long  united  in  misfortune. 


THE  FORTIETH  FRENCH  ASCENSION  OF  MONT 
BLANC,  BY  PAUL  YERNE. 


ARRIYED  at  Charaonix  on  the  18th  of 
August,  1871,  fully  decided  to  make  the 
ascent  of  Mont  Blanc,  cost  what  it 
might.  My  first  attempt  in  August,. 
1869,  was  not  successful.  Bad  weather  had  pre- 
vented me  from  mounting  beyond  the  Grands-Mu- 
lets.  This  time  circumstances  seemed  scarcely 
more  favorable,  for  the  weather,  which  had  prom- 
ised to  be  fine  on  the  morning  of  the  18th,  sud- 
denly changed  towards  noon.  Mont  Blanc,  as 
they  say  in  its  neighborhood,  "  put  on  its  cap  and 
began  to  smoke  its  pipe,"  which,  to  speak  more 
plainly,  means  that  it  is  covered  with  clouds,  and 
that  the  snow,  driven  upon  it  by  a  southwest 
wind,  forms  a  loug  tuft  on  its  summit,  in  the 
direction  of  the  unfathomaV)le  precipices  of  the 
Brenva  glaciers.  This  tuft  betrayed  to  imprudent 
tourists  the  route  they  would  have  taken,  had 
they  had  the  temerity  to  venture  upon  the  moun- 
tain. 

The  next  night  was  very  inclement ;  the  rain 
and  wind  were  violent,  and  the  barometer,  below 
the  "  variable "  point,  remained  discouragingly 
motionless. 

42 


1266  Ascension  of  Mont  Blanc. 

Towards  daybreak,  however,  several  thunder- 
claps announced  a  change  in  the  state  of  the  at- 
mosphere. Soon  the  clouds  broke.  The  chain  of 
the  Brevent  and  the  Aiguilles-Rouges  betrayed 
itself  The  wind,  turning  to  the  northwest, 
brought  into  view,  above  the  Col  de  Balme,  which 
shuts  in  the  valley  of  Chamonix  on  the  north, 
some  light,  isolated  fleecy  clouds,  which  I  hailed 
as  the  heralds  of  fine  weather. 

Despite  this  happy  augury  and  a  slight  rise  in 
the  barometer,  M.  Balmat,  master-guide  of  Cha- 
monix, declared  to  me  that  I  must  not  yet  think  of 
attempting  the  ascent. 

"  If  the  barometer  continues  to  rise,"  he  added, 
^'  and  the  weather  holds  good,  I  promise  you 
guides  for  day  after  to-morrow,  perhaps  for  to-mor- 
row. Meanwhile  have  patience,  and  stretch  your 
legs ;  T  will  take  you  up  the  Brevent.  The  clouds 
are  clearing  away,  and  you  will  be  able  to  exactly 
distinguish  the  path  you  will  have  to  go  over  to 
reach  the  summit  of  Mont  Blanc.  If,  in  spite  of 
this,  yovi  are  determined  to  go,  you  ma}^  attempt 
the  task." 

This  speech,  uttered  in  a  certain  tone,  was  not 
very  reassuring,  and  gave  food  for  reflection. 
Still  I  accepted  his  proposition,  and  he  chose  as 
my  companion  the  guide  Edward  Ravanel,  a  very 
sedate  and  devoted  fellow,  who  perfectly  knew  his 
business. 

M.  Donation  Levesque,  an  enthusiastic  tourist 
and  an  intrepid  pedestrian,  w^ho  had  made,  early 
in  the  previous  year,  an  interesting  and  difficult 
trip  in  North  America,  was  with  me.     He  had  al- 


Ascension  of  Mont  Blanc.  267 

ready  visited  the  greater  part  of  America,  and  was 
about  to  descend  the  Mississippi  to  New  Orleans, 
when  the  war  cut  short  his  projects  and  recalled 
him  to  France.  We  had  met  at  Aix-les-Bains, 
and  we  had  determined  to  make  an  excursion  to- 
gether in  Savoy  and  Switzerland. 

Donatien  Levesque  knew  my  intentions,  and,  as 
he  thought  that  his  health  would  not  permit  him  to 
attempt  so  long  a  journey  over  the  glaciers,  it  had 
been  agi'eed  that  he  should  await  my  return  from 
Mont  Blanc  at  Chamonix,  and  should  make  the 
traditional  visit  to  the  Mer-de-Glace  by  the  Mont- 
auvert  during  my  absence. 

On  learning  that  I  was  going  to  ascend  the 
Brevent,  my  friend  did  not  hesitate  to  accompany 
me  thither.  The  ascent  of  the  Brevent  is  one  of 
the  most  interesting  trips  that  can  be  made  from 
Chamonix.  This  mountain,  about  seven  thousand 
six  hundred  feet  high,  is  only  the  prolongation 
of  the  chain  of  the  Aiguilles-Rouges,  which  runs 
from  the  southwest  to  the  northeast,  parallel  with 
that  of  Mont  Blanc,  and  forms  with  it  the  nar- 
row valley  of  Chamonix.  The  Brevent,  by  its 
central  position,  exactly  opposite  the  Bossons  gla- 
ier,  enables  one  to  watch  the  parties  who  un- 
dertake the  ascent  of  the  giant  of  the  Alps  nearly 
throughout  their  journey.  It  is  therefore  much 
frequented. 

We  started  about  seven  o'clock  in  the  morning. 
As  we  went  along  I  thought  of  the  mysterious 
words  of  the  master-guide ;  they  annoyed  me  a 
little.     Addressing  Ravanel,  I  said,  — 

"  Have  you  made  the  ascent  of  Mont  Blanc  1 " 


268  Ascension  of  Mont  Blanc. 

"  Yes,  monsieur,"  he  replied,  "  once  ;  and  that  'a 
enough.     I  am  not  anxious  to  do  it  again." 

"  The  deuce  ! "  said  I.     "  I  am  going  to  try  it." 

"  You  are  free,  monsieur ;  but  I  shall  not  go 
with  you.  The  mountain  is  not  good  this  year. 
Several  attempts  have  already  been  made  ;  two 
only  have  succeeded  ;  as  for  the  second,  the  party 
tried  the  ascent  twice.  Besides,  the  accident  last 
year  has  rather  cooled  the  amateurs." 

"  An  accident  !     What  accident  % " 

"  Did  not  monsieur  hear  of  it  1  This  is  how  it 
happened.  A  party,  consisting  of  ten  guides  and 
porters,  and  two  Englishmen,  started  about  the 
middle  of  September  for  Mont  Blanc.  They  were 
seen  to  reach  the  sunmiit ;  then,  some  minvites 
after,  they  disappeared  in  a  cloud.  When  the 
cloud  passed  over,  no  one  was  visible.  The  two 
travellers,  with  seven  guides  and  porters,  had  been 
blown  off  by  the  wind  and  precipitated  on  the 
Cormayeur  side,  doubtless  into  the  Brenva  glacier. 
Despite  the  most  vigilant  search,  their  bodies  could 
not  be  found.  The  other  three  were  found  one 
hundred  and  fifty  yards  below  the  summit,  near 
the  Petits-Mulets.  They  had  passed  into  the  con- 
dition of  blocks  of  ice." 

"  But  these  travellers  must  have  been  impru- 
dent," said  I  to  Ravanel.  "  What  folly  it  was  to 
start  off  so  late  in  the  year  on  siich  an  expedition  ! 
They  should  have  gone  up  in  August." 

I  vainly  tried  to  keep  up  my  courage ;  this 
lugubrious  story  would  haunt  me  in  spite  of  myself. 
Happily  the  weather  soon  cleared,  and  the  rays  of 
a  bright  sun  dissipated  the  clouds  which  still  veiled 


Ascension  of  Mont  Blanc.  269 

Mont  Blanc,  and,  at  the  same  time,  those  which 
overshadowed  my  thoughts. 

Our  ascent  was  satisfactorily  accomplished.  On 
leaving  the  chalets  of  Planpraz,  situated  at  a  height 
of  two  thousand  and  sixty-two  yards,  you  ascend, 
on  ragged  masses  of  rock  and  pools  of  snow,  to 
the  foot  of  a  rock  called  "  The  Chimney,"  which 
is  scaled  with  the  feet  and  hands.  Twenty  min- 
utes after,  you  reach  the  summit  of  the  Brevent, 
whence  the  view  is  very  fine.  The  chain  of  Mont 
Blanc  appears  in  all  its  majesty.  The  gigantic 
mountain,  firmly  established  on  its  powerful 
strata,  seems  to  defy  the  tempests  which  sweep 
aci'oss  its  icy  shield,  without  ever  impairing  it ; 
whilst  the  crowd  of  icy  needles,  peaks,  moun- 
tains, which  form  its  cortege  and  rise  everywhere 
around  it,  without  equalling  its  noble  height, 
carries  the  evident  traces  of  a  slow  decomposi- 
tion. 

From  the  excellent  lookout  which  we  occupied, 
we  could  reckon,  though  still  imperfectly,  the  dis- 
tance to  be  gone  over  in  order  to  attain  the  summit. 
This  summit,  which  from  Chamonix  appears  so 
near  the  dome  of  the  Gouter,  now  took  its  true 
position.  The  various  plateaus  which  form  so 
many  degrees  which  must  be  crossed,  and  which 
are  not  visil)le  from  below,  appeared  from  the 
Brevent,  and  threw  the  so-much-desired  summit, 
by  the  laws  of  perspective,  still  farther  in  the 
background.  The  Bossons  glacier,  in  all  its  splen- 
dor, bristled  with  icy  needles  and  blocks,  which 
seemed,  like  the  waves  of  an  angry  sea,  to  beat 
against    the    sides    of  the   rocks  of  the    Grands- 


270  Ascension  of  Mont  Blanc. 

Millets,  the  base  of  which  disappeared  in  their 
midst. 

This  marvellous  spectacle  was  not  likely  to  cool 
my  impatience,  and  I  more  eagerly  than  ever  prom- 
ised myself  to  explore  this  hitherto  unknown  world. 

My  companion  was  equally  inspired  by  the  scene, 
and  from  this  moment  I  began  to  think  that  I 
shoiild  not  have  to  ascend  Mont  Blanc  alone. 

We  descended  again  to  Chamonix  ;  the  weather 
became  milder  every  hour ;  the  barometer  con- 
tinued to  ascend ;  everything  seemed  to  promise 
■well. 

The  next  day  at  sunrise  I  hastened  to  the  master- 
guide.  The  sky  was  cloudless ;  the  wind,  almost 
imperceptible,  was  northeast.  The  chain  of  Mont 
Blanc,  the  higher  summits  of  which  were  gilded 
by  the  rising  sun,  seemed  to  invite  the  many 
tourists  to  ascend  it.  One  could  not,  in  all  polite- 
ness, refuse  so  kindly  an  invitation. 

M.  Balmat,  after  consulting  his  barometer,  de- 
clared the  ascent  to  be  practicable,  and  promised 
me  the  two  guides  and  the  porter  prescribed  in 
the  agreement.  I  left  the  selection  of  these  to  him. 
But  an  unexpected  incident  disturbed  my  prepara- 
tion's for  departure. 

As  I  came  out  of  M.  Balmat's  office,  I  met  Ea- 
vanel,  my  guide  of  the  day  before. 

"Is  monsieur  going  to  Mont  Blanc"?"  he  asked. 

"  Yes,  certainly,"  said  I.  "  Is  it  not  a  favora- 
ble time  to  go  1  " 

He  reflected  a  few  moments,  and  then  said  with 
an  embarrassed  air,  — 

"  Monsieur,  you  are  my  traveller ;  I  accompa- 


Asceiisiou  of  Mont  Blanc.  271 

nied  you  yesterday  to  the  Brevent ;  therefore  I 
cannot  abandon  you,  and  since  you  are  going  vip, 
I  will  go  with  you,  if  you  will  kindly  accept  my 
services.  It  is  your  right,  for  on  all  dangerous 
journeys  the  traveller  can  choose  his  guides. 
Only,  if  you  accept  my  offer,  I  ask  that  you  w'ill 
also  take  my  brother,  Ambrose  Havanel,  and  my 
cousin,  Gaspard  Simon.  These  are  young,  vigor- 
ous fellows  ;  they  do  not  like  the  ascent  of  Mont 
Blanc  any  better  than  I  do,  but  they  will  not 
shirk  it,  and  I  answer  for  them  to  you  as  I  would 
for  myself" 

This  young  man  inspired  me  with  all  confidence. 
I  accepted  his  proposition,  and  hastened  to  ap- 
prise M.  Balmat  of  the  choice  I  had  made.  But 
M.  Balmat  had  meanwhile  been  selecting  guides 
for  me  according  to  their  turn  on  his  list.  One 
only  had  accepted,  —  Edwai'd  Simon  ;  the  answer 
of  another,  Jean  Carrier,  had  not  yet  been  received, 
though  it  was  scarcely  doubtful,  as  this  man  had 
already  made  the  ascent  of  Mont  Blanc  twenty- 
nine  times.  I  found  myself  in  an  embarrassing 
position.  The  guides  I  had  chosen  were  all  from 
Argentiere,  a  village  six  kilometres  from  Chauio- 
nix.  Those  of  Chamonix  accused  Ravanel  of  hav- 
ing influenced  me  in  favor  of  his  family,  which 
was  contrary  to  the  regulations. 

To  cut  the  discussion  short,  I  took  Edward 
Simon,  who  had  already  made  his  preparations,  as 
a  thii-d  guide.  He  would  be  useless  if  I  went  up 
alone,  but  would  become  indispensable  if  my  friend 
also  ascended. 

This  settled,    I   went   to  apprise  Donatien  Le- 


272  Ascension  of  Mont  Blanc. 

vesque.  I  found  him  sleeping  the  sleep  of  the 
just  who  has  gone  over  sixteen  kilometres  on  a 
mountain  the  evening  before.  I  had  some  diffi- 
culty in  waking  him ;  but  on  removing  first  his 
sheets,  then  his  pillows,  and  finally  his  mattress,  I 
obtained  some  result,  and  succeeded  in  making 
him  understand  that  I  was  preparing  for  the  haz- 
ardous trip. 

"  Well,"  said  he,  yawning,  "  I  will  go  with  you 
as  far  as  the  Grands-Mulets,  and  await  your  return 
there." 

"  Bravo  ! "  I  replied.  "  I  have  just  one  guide  too 
many,  and  I  will  attach  him  to  your  person." 

We  bought  the  various  articles  indispensable  to 
a  journey  across  the  glaciers.  Iron-spiked  alpen- 
stocks, coarse  cloth  leggings,  green  spectacles  fit- 
ting tightly  to  the  eyes,  furred  gloves,  green  veils, 
—  nothing  was  forgotten.  We  each  had  excellent 
triple-soled  shoes,  with  sharp  nails  for  the  ice. 
This  last  is  an  important  detail,  for  there  are  mo- 
ments in  such  an  expedition  when  the  least  slip  is 
fatal,  not  only  to  yourself,  but  to  the  whole  party 
with  you. 

Our  preparations  and  those  of  the  guides  occu- 
pied neai'ly  two  hours.  About  eight  o'clock  our 
mules  were  brought ;  and  we  set  out  at  last  for 
the  chalet  of  the  Pierre-Pointue,  situated  at  a 
height  of  six  thousand  five  hundred  feet,  or  three 
thousand  above  the  valley  of  Chamonix,  not  far 
from  eight  thousand  five  hundred  feet  below  the 
summit  of  Mont  Blanc. 

On  reaching  the  Pierre-Pointue,  about  ten 
o'clock,   we   fovuid   there   a   Spanish   tourist,    M. 


Ascension  of  Mont  Blanc.  273 

N ,  accompanied  by  two  guides  and  a  porter. 

His  principal  guide,  Paccard,  a  relative  of  the 
Doctor  Paccard  who  made,  with  Jacques  Balmat, 
the  first  ascent  of  Mont  Blanc,  had  already  been 

to  the  summit  eighteen   times.      M.   N had 

travelled  much  in  America,  and  had  crossed  the 
Cordilleras  to  Quito,  passing  through  snow  at  the 
highest  points.  He  therefore  thought  that  he 
could,  without  great  difficulty,  cany  through  his 
new  enterprise ;  but  in  this  he  was  mistaken. 
He  had  reckoned  without  the  steepness  of  the 
inclinations  which  he  had  to  cross,  and  the  rare- 
faction of  the  air.  I  hasten  to  add,  to  his  honor, 
that,  since  he  succeeded  in  reaching  the  summit  of 
Mont  Blanc,  it  was  due  to  a  rare  moral  energy,  for 
his  physical  energies  had  long  before  deserted  him. 

We  breakfasted  as  heartily  as  possible  at  the 
Pierre-Pointue  ;  this  being  a  prudent  precaution,  as 
the  appetite  usually  ftiils  higher  up  among  the  ice. 

M.  N set  out  at  eleven,  with  his  guides,  for 

the  Grands-Mulets.  We  did  not  start  until  noon. 
The  mule-road  ceases  at  the  Pierre-Pointue.  We 
had  then  to  go  up  a  very  naiTOw  zigzag  path,  which 
follows  the  edge  of  the  Bossons  glacier,  and  along  the 
base  of  the  Aiguille-du-Midi.  After  an  hour  of  diffi- 
cult climbing  in  an  intense  heat,  we  reached  a  point 
called  the  PieiTe-a-l'Echelle,  eight  thousand  one 
hundred  feet  high.  The  guides  and  travellers  were 
then  bound  together  by  a  strong  rope,  with  three  or 
four  yards  between  each  couple.  We  were  about 
to  advance  upon  the  Bossons  glacier.  This  glacier, 
difficult  at  first,  presents  yawning  and  apparently 
bottomless  crevices  on  every  hand.  The  vertical 
12*  R 


274  Ascension  of  Mont  Blanc. 

sides  of  these  crevices  are  of  a  glaucous  and  un- 
certain color,  but  too  seducing  to  the  eye ;  when, 
approaching  closely,  you  succeed  in  looking  into 
their  mysterious  depths,  you  feel  yourself  irresist- 
ibly drawu  towards  them,  and  nothing  seems  more 
natural  than  to  go  down  into  them. 

You  advance  slowly,  passing  around  the  ci'evices, 
or  on  the  snow  bridges  of  dubious  strength.  Theu 
the  rope  plays  its  part.  It  is  stretched  out  over 
these  dangerous  transits ;  if  the  snow  bridge  yields, 
the  guide  or  traveller  remains  hanging  over  the 
abyss.  He  is  drawn  beyond  it,  and  gets  off  with  a 
few  bruises.  Sometimes,  if  the  crevice  is  very 
wide  but  not  deep,  he  descends  to  the  bottom  and 
goes  up  on  the  other  side.  In  this  case  it  is  neces- 
sary to  cut  steps  in  the  ice,  and  the  two  leading 
guides,  armed  with  a  sort  of  hatchet,  perform  this 
difficult  and  perilous  task.  A  special  circumstance 
makes  the  entrance  on  the  Bossons  dangerous. 
You  go  upon  the  glacier  at  the  base  of  the  Aiguille- 
du-Midi,  opposite  a  passage  whence  stone  avalanches 
often  descend.  This  passage  is  nearly  six  hundred 
feet  wide.  It  must  be  crossed  quickly,  and  as  you 
pass,  a  guide  stands  on  guard  to  avert  the  danger 
from  you  if  it  presents  itself.  In  1 869  a  guide  was 
killed  on  this  spot,  and  his  body,  thrust  into  space 
by  a  stone,  was  dashed  to  pieces  on  the  rocks  nine 
hundred  feet  below. 

We  were  warned,  and  hastened  our  steps  as  fast 
as  our  inexpei'ience  would  permit ;  but  on  leaving 
this  dangerous  zone,  another,  not  less  dangerous, 
awaited  us.  This  was  the  region  of  the  "  seracs," 
—  immense  blocks  of  ice,  the  formation  of  which 
is  not  as  yet  explained. 


Ascension  of  Mont  Blanc.  275 

These  are  usually  situated  on  the  edge  of  a 
plateau,  and  menace  the  whole  valley  beneath 
them.  A  slight  movement  of  the  glacier,  or  even 
a  light  vibration  of  the  temperature,  impels  their 
fall,  and  occasions  the  most  serious  accidents. 

''Messieurs,  keep  quiet,  and  let  us  pass  over 
quickly."' 

These  woirds,  roughly  spoken  by  one  of  the 
guides,  checked  our  conversation.  We  went  across 
rapidly  and  in  silence.  We  finally  reached  what  is 
called  the  "  Junction,"  which  might  more  properly 
be  called  the  violent  "Separation,"  by  the  Cote 
Mountain,  the  Bossons  glacier,  and  Tacconay.  At 
this  point  the  scene  assumes  an  indescribable  char- 
acter ;  crevices  with  changing  colors,  ice-needles 
with  sharp  forms,  seracs  suspended  and  pierced 
with  the  light,  little  green  lakes,  compose  a  chaos 
which  surpasses  everything  that  one  can  imagine. 
Added  to  this,  the  rush  of  the  torrents  at  the  foot 
of  the  glaciers,  the  sinister  and  repeated  crackings 
of  the  blocks  which  detached  themselves  and  fell 
in  avalanches  down  the  crevices,  the  trembling  of 
the  ground  which  opened  beneath  our  feet,  gave  a 
singular  idea  of  those  desolate  places  the  existence 
of  which  only  betrays  itself  by  destruction  and 
death. 

After  passing  the  "  Junction  "  you  follow  the 
Tacconay  glacier  for  a  while,  and  reach  the  border 
which  leads  to  the  Grands-Mulets.  This  border, 
very  sloping,  is  traversed  in  zigzags;  the  leading 
guide  takes  care  to  trace  them  at  an  angle  of 
thirty  degrees,  when  there  is  fresh  snow,  to  avoid 
the  avalanches. 


276  Ascermoii  of  Mont  Blanc. 

After  crossing  for  three  hours  on  the  ice  and 
snow  we  reach  the  Grands-Mulets,  rocks  six  hun- 
dred feet  high,  overlooking  on  one  side  the  Bos- 
sons  glacier,  and  on  the  other  the  sloping  plains 
which  extend  to  the  base  of  the  Gouter  dome. 

A  small  hut  constructed  by  the  guides  near  the 
summit  of  the  first  rock  gives  a  shelter  to  trav- 
ellers, and  enables  them  to  await  a  favorable  mo- 
ment for  setting  out  for  the  summit  of  Mont 
Blanc. 

They  dine  there  as  they  can,  and  also  sleep ; 
but  the  proverb  "  He  who  sleeps  dines  "  does  not 
apply  to  this  elevation,  for  one  cannot  seriously  do 
the  one  or  the  other. 

"  Well,"  said  I  to  Levesque,  after  a  pretence  of 
eating,  "  did  I  exaggerate  the  splendor  of  the  land- 
scape, and  do  you  regret  having  come  thus  far  1 " 

"  I  regret  it  so  little,"  he  replied,  "  that  I  am 
determined  to  go  on  to  the  summit.  You  may 
count  on  me." 

"  Very  good,"  said  I.  "  But  you  know  the  worst 
is  yet  to  come." 

"Bast !  "  he  exclaimed,  "  we  will  go  to  the  end. 
Meanwhile  let  us  observe  the  sunset,  which  must 
be  magnificent." 

The  heavens  had  remained  wonderfully  clear. 
The  chain  of  the  Brevent  and  the  Aiguilles-Rouges 
stretched  out  at  our  feet.  Beyond,  the  Fiz  rocks 
and  the  Aiguille-de- Varan  rose  above  the  Sallanche 
Valley,  and  the  whole  chains  of  Mont  Fleury  and 
the  Reposoir  appeared.  More  to  the  right  we 
could  descry  the  snowy  summit  of  the  Buet,  and 
farther  off  the  Dents-du-Midi,  overhanging  the  val- 


Ascension  of  Mont  Blanc.  277 

ley  of  the  Rhone.  Behind  us  were  the  eternal 
snows  of  the  Gouter,  Mont  Maudit,  and,  lastly, 
Mont  Blanc. 

Little  by  little  the  shadows  invaded  the  valley 
of  Chamonix,  and,  gradually,  each  of  the  summits 
■which  overlook  it  on  the  west.  The  chain  of  Mont 
Blanc  alone  remained  luminous,  and  seemed  en- 
circled by  a  golden  nimbus.  Soon  the  shadows 
crept  up  the  Gouter  and  Mont  Maudit.  They  stiU. 
respected  the  giant  of  the  Alps.  We  admiringly 
watched  this  gradual  disappearance  of  the  light. 
It  lingered  awhile  on  the  highest  summit,  and 
gave  us  the  foolish  hope  that  it  would  not  depart 
thence.  But  in  a  few  moments  aU  was  shrouded 
in  gloom,  and  the  livid  and  ghastly  colors  of  death 
succeeded  the  living  hues.  I  do  not  exaggerate ; 
those  who  love  mountains  will  comprehend  me. 

After  witnessing  this  sublime  scene,  we  had 
only  to  await  the  moment  of  departure.  We 
were  to  set  out  again  at  two  in  the  morning.  We 
stretched  ourselves  upon  our  mattresses. 

It  was  useless  to  think  of  sleep,  much  more  to 
talk.  We  were  absorbed  by  more  or  less  gloomy 
thoughts  ;  it  was  the  night  before  the  battle,  with 
the  difference  that  nothing  forced  us  to  engage  in 
the  struggle.  Two  sorts  of  ideas  struggled  in  the 
mind.  It  was  the  ebb  and  flow  of  the  sea,  each 
in  its  turn.  Objections  to  the  venture  were  not 
•wanting.  Why  run  so  much  danger  1  If  we  suc- 
ceeded, of  what  advantage  would  it  be  1  If  an 
accident  happened,  how  much  would  the  venture 
be  regretted  !  Then  the  imagination  set  to  work ; 
all  the  mountain  catastrophes  rose   in   the  fancy. 


278  Ascension  of  Mont  Blanc. 

I  dreamed  of  snow  bridges  giving  way  under  my 
feet,  of  being  precipitated  in  the  yawning  crevices, 
of  hearing  the  terrible  noises  of  the  avalanches  de- 
taching themselves  and  barying  me,  of  disappear- 
ing, of  cold  and  death  seizing  upon  me,  and  of 
struggling  with  desperate  effort,  but  in  vain  ! 

A  sharp,  homble  noise  is  heard  at  this  mo- 
ment. 

"The  avalanche  !  the  avalanche  !"  I  cry. 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  you  1 "  asks  Levesque, 
jumping  up. 

Alas !  It  is  a  piece  of  furniture  which,  in  the 
struggles  of  my  nightmare,  I  have  just  broken. 
This  very  prosaic  avalanche  recalls  me  to  the 
reality.  I  laugh  at  my  terrors,  a  contrary  current 
of  thought  gets  the  upper  hand,  and  with  it  am- 
bitious ideas.  I  need  only  use  a  little  effort  to 
reach  this  summit,  so  seldom  attained.  It  is  a 
victory,  as  others  are.  Accidents  are  rare,  very 
rare  !  Do  they  ever  take  place  at  all  1  The 
spectacle  from  the  summit  must  be  so  marvellous  ! 
And  then,  what  satisfaction  there  would  be  in 
having  accomplished  what  so  many  others  dared 
not  undertake  ! 

My  courage  was  restored  by  these  thoughts,  and 
I  calmly  awaited  the  moment  of  departure. 

About  one  o'clock  the  steps  and  voices  of  the 
guides,  and  the  noise  of  opening  doors,  indicated 
that  that  moment  was  approaching.  Soon  Ravanel 
came  in  and  said,  "  Come,  messieurs,  get  up  ;  the 
weather  is  magnificent.  By  ten  o'clock  we  shall 
be  at  the  summit." 

At  these  words  we   leaped   from   our  beds,  and 


Ascension  of  Mont  Blanc.  279 

hxirried  to  make  our  toilet.  Two  of  the  guides, 
Ambrose  Ravanel  and  his  cousin  Simon,  went  on 
ahead  to  explore  the  road.  They  were  provided 
with  a  lantern,  which  was  to  show  us  the  way  to 
go,  and  with  hatchets  to  make  the  path  and  cut 
steps  in  the  very  difficult  spots.  At  two  o'clock 
we  tied  ourselves  one  to  another  :  the  order  of 
march  was,  Edward  Ravanel  before  me,  and  at  the 
head ;  behind  me  Edward  Simon,  then  Donatieu 
Levesque  ;  after  him,  our  two  porters,  (for  we  took 
along  the  domestic  of  the  Grands-Mulets  hut  as 
a  second,)  and  M.  N 's  party. 

The  guides  and  porters  having  divided  the  pro- 
visions between  them,  the  signal  for  departure  was 
given,  and  we  set  out  in  the  midst  of  j^rofound 
darkness,  directing  ovu'selves  according  to  the  lan- 
tern held  up  at  some  distance  ahead. 

There  was  something  solemn  in  this  setting  out. 
But  few  words  were  spoken ;  the  vagueness  of  the 
unknown  impressed  us,  but  the  new  and  strange 
situation  excited  us,  and  rendered  us  insensible  to 
its  dangers.  The  landscape  around  was  fantastic. 
But  few  outlines  were  distinguishable.  Great  white 
confused  masses,  with  blackish  spots  here  and  thei'e, 
closed  the  horizon.  The  celestial  vault  shone  with 
remarkable  brilliancy.  We  could  perceive,  at  an 
imcertain  distance,  the  lantern  of  the  guides  who 
were  ahead,  and  the  lugubrious  silence  of  the  night 
was  only  disturbed  by  the  dry,  distant  noise  of  the 
hatchet  cutting  steps  in  the  ice. 

We  crept  slowl}-  and  cautiously  over  the  first 
ascent,  going  towards  the  base  of  the  Goiiter. 
After   ascending   laboriously   for   two    hours,    we 


280  Ascension  of  Mont  Blanc. 

reached  the  first  plateau,  called  the  "  Petit-Pla- 
teau," at  the  foot  of  the  Gouter,  a  height  of 
about  eleven  thousand  feet.  We  rested  a  few 
moments  and  then  proceeded,  turning  now  to  the 
left  and  going  towards  the  edge  which  conducts  to 
the  "  Grand-Plateau." 

But  our  party  had  already  lessened  in  number  : 

M.    N ,   with   his    guides,    had    stopped ;    his 

fatigue  obliged  him  to  take  a  longer  rest. 

About  half  past  four  dawn  began  to  whiten  the 
horizon.  At  this  moment  we  were  ascending  the 
slope  which  leads  to  the  Grand-Plateau,  which  we 
soon  safely  reached.  We  were  eleven  thousand 
eight  hundred  feet  high.  We  had  well  earned  our 
breakfast.  Wonderful  to  relate,  Levesque  and  I 
had  a  good  appetite.  It  was  a  good  sign.  We  there- 
fore installed  ourselves  on  the  snow,  and  made  such 
a  repast  as  we  could.  Our  guides  joyfully  declared 
that  success  was  certain.  As  for  me,  I  thought 
they  resumed  work  too  quickly. 

M.  N rejoined  us  before  long.     We  urged 

him  to  take  some  nourishment.  He  peremptorily 
refused.  He  felt  the  contraction  of  the  stomach 
which  is  so  common  in  those  parts,  and  was  almost 
broken  down. 

The  Grand-Plateau  deserves  a  special  description. 
On  the  right  rises  the  dome  of  the  Gouter.  Opposite 
it  is  Mont  Blanc,  rearing  itself  two  thousand  seven 
Ijundred  feet  above  it.  On  the  left  are  the  "  Rouges" 
rocka  and  Mont  Maudit.  This  immense  circle  is  one 
mass  of  glittering  whiteness.  On  every  side  are 
vast  crevices.  It  was  in  one  of  these  that  three  of 
the  guides  who  accompanied  Dr.  Hamel  and  Colonel 


Ascension  of  Mont  Blanc.  281 

Anderson,  in  1820,  were  swallowed  up.  In  1864 
another  guide  met  his  death  there. 

This  plateau  must  be  crossed  with  great  caution, 
as  the  crevices  are  often  hidden  by  the  snow ; 
besides,  it  is  often  swept  by  avalanches.  On  the 
13th  of  October,  1866,  an  English  traveller  and 
three  of  his  guides  were  buried  under  an  ice-mass 
that  fell  from  Mont  Blanc.  After  a  perilous  search, 
the  bodies  of  the  three  guides  were  found.  They 
were  expecting  every  moment  to  find  that  of  the 
Englishman,  when  a  fresh  avalanche  fell  upon  the 
first,  and  forced  the  searchers  to  abandon  their 
task. 

Three  routes  presented  themselves  to  us.  The 
ordinary  route,  which  passes  entirely  to  the  left, 
by  the  base  of  Mont  Maudit,  through  a  sort  of 
valley  called  the  "  Coi-ridor,"  leads  by  gentle  as- 
cents to  the  top  of  the  first  escarpment  of  the 
Rouges  rocks. 

The  second,  less  frequented,  turns  to  the  right 
by  the  Gouter,  and  leads  to  the  summit  of  Mont 
Blanc  by  the  ridge  which  unites  these  two  moun- 
tains. You  must  pursue  for  three  hours  a  giddy 
path,  and  scale  a  hump  of  moving  ice,  called  the 
"  Bosse-du-Dromedaire." 

The  third  route  consists  in  ascending  directly  to 
the  summit  of  the  Corridor,  and  crossing  an  ice-wall 
seven  hundred  and  fifty  feet  high,  which  extends^ 
along  the  first  escarpment  of  the  Rouges  rocks. 

The  guides  declared  the  first  route  impracticable 
on  account  of  the  recent  crevices  which  entirely 
obstructed  it ;  the  choice  between  the  two  others 
remained.      I   thought  the   second,  by  the   Bosse- 


282  Ascefision  of  Mont  Blane. 

du-Dromedaire,  the  best ;  but  it  was  regarded  as 
too  dangerous,  and  it  was  decided  that  we  should 
attack  the  ice-wall  conducting  to  the  summit  of 
the  Corridor. 

When  a  decision  is  made,  it  is  best  to  execute 
it  without  delay.  We  crossed  the  Grand-Plateau, 
and  reached  tlie  foot  of  this  really  formidable  ob- 
stacle. 

The  nearer  we  approached,  the  more  nearly  ver- 
tical became  its  slope.  Besides,  several  crevices 
which  we  had  not  2:)erceived  yawned  at  its  base. 

We  nevertheless  began  the  difficult  ascent. 
Steps  were  begun  by  the  foremost  guide,  and  com- 
pleted by  the  next.  We  ascended  two  steps  a 
minute.  The  higher  we  went,  the  more  the  in- 
clination increased.  Our  guides  themselves  dis- 
cussed what  route  to  follow ;  they  spoke  in  patois, 
and  did  not  alw^ays  agree,  which  was  not  a  good 
sign.  At  last  the  slope  became  such  that  our  hats 
touched  the  legs  of  the  guide  just  before  us.  A 
hailstorm  of  pieces  of  ice,  produced  by  the  cutting 
of  the  steps,  blinded  us,  and  made  our  progi'ess 
still  more  difficult.  Addressing  one  of  the  fore- 
most guides,  I  said,  — 

"  Ah,  it 's  very  well  going  up  this  way  !  It  is 
not  an  open  road,  I  admit ;  still,  it  is  practicable. 
Only  how  are  you  going  to  get  us  down  again  1 " 

"  0  monsieur,"  replied  Ambrose  Ravanel,  "  we 
will  take  another  route  going  back." 

At  last,  after  violent  effort  for  two  hours,  and 
after  having  cut  more  than  four  hundred  steps  in 
this  terrible  mass,  we  reached  the  summit  of  the 
■Corridor  completely  exhausted. 


Ascension  of  Mont  Blanc.  283 

We  then  crossed  a  slightly  sloping  plateau  of 
snow,  and  passed  along  the  side  of  an  immense 
crevice  which  obstructed  our  way.  We  had  scarce- 
ly turned  it  when  we  uttered  a  cry  of  admiration. 
On  the  right,  Piedmont  and  the  plains  of  Lom- 
bardy  were  at  our  feet.  On  the  left,  the  Pennine 
Alps  and  the  Oberland,  crowned  with  snow,  raised 
their  magnificent  crests.  Monte  Rosa  and  the 
Cervin  alone  still  rose  above  us,  but  soon  we  should 
overlook  them  in  our  turn. 

This  reflection  recalled  us  to  the  end  of  our 
expedition.  We  turned  our  gaze  towards  Mont 
Blanc,  and  stood  stupefied. 

"  Heavens  !  how  far  off  it  is  still !  "  cried  Le- 
vesque. 

"  And  high,"  I  added. 

It  was  a  discouraging  sight.  The  famous  wall 
of  the  ridge,  so  much  feared,  but  which  must  be 
crossed,  was  before  us,  with  its  slope  of  fifty  de- 
gi'ees.  But  after  scaling  the  wall  of  the  Corridor, 
it  did  not  terrify  us.  We  rested  for  half  an  hour 
and  then  continued  our  tramp  ;  but  we  soon  per- 
ceived that  the  atmospheric  conditions  were  no 
longer  the  same.  The  sun  shed  his  warm  rays 
\ipon  us ;  and  their  reflection  on  the  snow  added 
to  our  discomfort.  The  rarefaction  of  the  air  be- 
gan to  be  severely  felt.  We  advanced  slowly,  mak- 
ing frequent  halts,  and  at  last  reached  the  plateau 
which  overlooks  the  second  escarpment  of  the 
Rouges  rocks.  We  were  at  the  foot  of  Mont  Blanc. 
It  I'ose,  alone  and  majestic,  at  a  height  of  six  hun- 
dred feet  above  us.  Monte  Rosa  itself  had  low- 
ered its  flasr  ! 


284  Ascension  of  Mont  Blanc. 

Levesque  and  I  were  completely  exhausted.     As 

foi-  M.  N ,  who  had  rejoined  us  at  the  summit 

of  the  Corridor,  it  might  be  said  that  he  was  insen- 
sible to  the  rarefaction  of  the  air,  for  he  no  longer 
bi'eathed,  so  to  speak. 

We  began  at  last  to  scale  the  last  stage.  We 
made  ten  steps,  and  then  stopped,  finding  it  abso- 
lutely impossible  to  proceed.  A  painful  contrac- 
tion of  the  throat  made  our  breathing  exceedingly 
difficult.  Our  legs  refused  to  carry  us ;  and  I 
then  imderstood  the  picturesque  expression  of 
Jacques  Balmat,  when,  in  narrating  his  first  ascent, 
he  said  that  "his  legs  seemed  to  be  sustained  only 
by  his  pantaloons."  But  a  strong  sentiment  over- 
came matter ;  and  if  the  body  faltered,  the  heart, 
responding  "  Excelsior  !  "  stifled  its  desperate  com- 
plaint, and  urged  forward  our  poor  worn-out  mech- 
anism despite  itself  We  thus  passed  the  Petits- 
Mulets,  and  after  two  hours  of  superhuman  efforts 
finally  overlooked  the  entire  chain.  Mont  Blanc 
was  under  our  feet  ! 

It  was  fifteen  minutes  after  twelve. 

The  pride  of  success  soon  dissipated  our  fatigue. 
We  had  at  last  conquered  this  much  dreaded  crest. 
We  overlooked  all  the  others,  and  the  thoughts 
which  Mont  Blanc  alone  can  inspire  affected  us 
with  a  deep  emotion.  It  was  ambition  satisfied, 
and  to  me,  at  least,  a  dream  realized  ! 

Mont  Blanc  is  tlie  highest  mountain  in  Europe. 
Several  mountains  in  Asia  and  America  are  higher, 
but  of  what  use  would  it  be  to  attemjit  them,  if  in 
the  absolute  impossibility  of  reaching  their  sum- 
mit, you  must  count  on  remaining  at  a  lesser  height? 


Ascension  of  Mont  Blanc.  285 

Others,  such  as  Mont  Cervin,  are  more  difficult 
of  access ;  but  we  perceived  the  summit  of  Mont 
Cervin  twelve  hundred  feet  below  us  ! 

And  then,  what  a  spectacle  to  reward  us  for  our 
troubles  and  dangers  ! 

The  sky,  still  pure,  had  assumed  a  deep-blue 
tint.  The  sun,  despoiled  of  a  part  of  his  rays,  had 
lost  his  brilliancy,  as  if  in  a  partial  eclipse.  This 
effect,  due  to  the  rarefaction  of  the  air,  was  all  the 
more  apparent  as  the  surrounding  eminences  and 
plains  were  inundated  with  light.  No  detail  of 
the  scene  therefore  escaped  our  notice. 

In  the  southeast  the  mountains  of  Piedmont, 
and  farther  off  the  plains  of  Lombardy,  shut  in  our 
horizon.  Towards  the  west,  the  mountains  of 
Savoy  and  Dauphin^  ;  beyond,  the  valley  of  the 
Rhone.  In  the  northwest,  the  Lake  of  Geneva  and 
the  Jura ;  then,  descending  towards  the  south,  a 
chaos  of  mountains  and  glaciers,  something  inde- 
scribable, ovei'looked  by  the  masses  of  Monte  Rosa, 
the  Mischabelhcerner,  the  Cervin,  the  Weishorn,  — 
the  most  beautiful  of  crests,  as  Tyndall  calls  it,  — 
and  farther  off  by  the  Jungfrau,  the  Monck,  the 
Eiger,  and  the  Finsteraarhorn. 

The  extent  of  our  i-ange  of  vision  was  not  less 
than  sixty  leagues.  We  therefore  saw  at  least  one 
hundred  and  twenty  leagues  of  country. 

A  special  circumstance  happened  to  enhance  the 
beauty  of  the  scene.  Clouds  formed  on  the  Ital- 
ian side,  and  invaded  the  valleys  of  the  Pennine 
Alps,  without  veiling  their  summits.  We  soon 
had  under  our  eyes  a  second  sky,  a  lower  sky,  a 
sea  of  clouds  whence  emerged  a  perfect  archipel- 


286  Ascension  of  Mont  Blanc. 

ago  of  peaks  and  snow-wrapped  mountains.  There 
was  something  magical  in  it,  which  the  greatest 
poets  could  scarcely  describe. 

The  summit  of  Mont  Blanc  forms  a  ridge  from 
southwest  to  northeast,  two  hundred  paces  long 
and  a  yard  wide  at  the  culminating  point.  It 
seemed  like  a  ship's  hull  overturned,  the  keel  in 
the  air. 

Strangely  enough,  the  temperature  was  very 
high,  —  ten  degrees  above  zero.  The  air  was  al- 
most still.     Sometimes  we  felt  a  light  breeze. 

The  first  care  of  our  gviides  was  to  place  us  all 
in  a  line  on  the  crest  opposite  Chamonix,  that  we 
might  be  easily  counted  from  below,  and  thus 
make  it  known  that  no  one  of  us  had  been  lost. 
Many  of  the  tourists  had  ascended  the  Brevent 
and  the  Jardin  to  watch  our  ascent.  They  might 
now  be  assured  of*  its  success. 

But  to  ascend  was  not  all ;  we  must  think  also 
of  going  down.  The  most  difficult,  if  not  most 
wearisome,  task  still  remained ;  and  then  one 
quits  with  regret  a  summit  attained  at  the  price 
of  so  much  toil.  The  energy  which  urges  you  to 
ascend,  the  need,  so  natural  and  imperious,  of 
overcoming,  now  fails  yovi.  You  go  forward  with- 
out ai'dor,  looking  often  behind  you ! 

It  was  necessary,  however,  to  decide,  and,  after 
a  last  traditional  libation  of  champagne,  we  put 
ourselves  in  motion.  We  had  remained  on  the 
summit  an  hour.     The  order  of  march  was  now 

changed.     M.  N 's  party  led  off ;  and,  at  the 

suggestion  of  his  guide,  Paccard,  we  were  all  tied 
together  Avlth  a  iotjc.     j.I.  N 's  fatigue,  which 


Ascension  of  Mont  Blanc.  287 

his  strength,  but  not  his  will,  betrayed,  caused  us 
to  fear  falls  on  his  part  which  would  require  the 
help  of  the  whole  party  to  arrest.  The  event 
justified  our   foreboding.     On  descending  the  side 

of  the  wall,  M.  N made  several  false  steps. 

His  guides,  very  vigorous  and  skilful,  were  happily 
able  to  check  him  ;  but  ours,  fearing,  with  reason, 
that  the  whole  party  might  be  dragged  down, 
wished  to  detach  us  from  the  rope.  Levesque  and  I 
opposed  this  ;  and,  by  taking  great  precautious,  we 
safely  reached  the  base  of  this  giddy  ledge.  There 
was  no  room  for  illusions.  The  almost  bottomless 
abyss  was  before  us ;  and  the  pieces  of  detached 
ice,  which  bounded  by  us  with  the  rapidity  of  an 
arrow,  clearly  showed  us  the  route  which  the  party 
would  follow  if  a  nusstep  were  taken. 

Once  this  terrible  gap  crossed,  I  began  to  breathe 
again.  We  descended  the  gradual  slopes  which  led 
to  the  summit  of  the  Corridor.  The  snow,  soft- 
ened by  the  heat,  yielded  beneath  om*  feet ;  we 
sank  in  it  to  the  knees,  which  made  our  progress 
veiy  fatiguing.  We  steadily  followed  the  path  by 
which  Ave  ascended  in  the  morning,  and  I  was 
astonished  when  Gaspard  Simon,  turning  towards 
me,  said,  — 

"  Monsieur,  we  cannot  take  any  other  road,  for 
the  Corridor  is  impracticable,  and  we  must  de- 
scend by  the  wall  which  we  climbed  up  this  morn- 
ing." 

I  told  Levesque  this  disagreeable  news. 

"  Only,"  added  Gaspard  Simon,  "  I  do  not  think 
we  can  all  remain  tied  together.  However,  we 
will  see  how  M.  N bears  himself  at  first." 


288  Ascensio7i  of  Mont  Blanc. 

We  advanced  towards  this  terrible  wall !     M. 

N 's  party  began  to  descend,  and  we  heard 

Paccard  talking  rapidly  to  him.  The  inclination 
became  so  steep  that  we  perceived  neither  him  nor 
his  guides,  though  we  were  bound  together  by  the 
same  rope. 

As  soon  as  Gaspard  Simon,  who  went  before  me, 
could  comprehend  what  was  passing,  he  stopped, 
and  after  exchanging  some  words  in  patois  with 
his  comrades,  declared  that  we  must  detach  our- 
selves from  M.   N 's  party. 

"  We  are  responsible  for  you,"  he  added,  "  but 
we  cannot  be  resj)onsible  for  others ;  and  if  they 
slip,  they  will  drag  us  after  them." 

Saying  this,  he  got  loose  fi'om  the  rope.  We 
were  very  unwilling  to  take  this  step ;  but  our 
guides  were  inflexible.     We  then  proposed  to  send 

two  of  them  to  help  M.  N 's  guides.     They 

eagerly  consented  ;  but  having  no  rope,  they  could 
not  put  this  plan  into  execution. 

We  then  began  this  terrible  descent.  Only  one 
of  us  moved  at  a  time,  and  when  each  took  a 
step,  the  others  buttressed  themselves  ready  to 
sustain  the  shock  if  he  slipped.  The  foremost 
guide,  Edward  Ravanel,  had  the  most  perilous 
task  ;  it  was  for  him  to  make  the  steps  over  again, 
now  more  or  less  worn  away  by  the  ascending 
caravan. 

We  progressed  slowly,  taking  the  most  careful 
precautions.  Our  route  led  us  in  a  right  line  to 
one  of  the  crevices  which  opened  at  the  base 
of  the  escarpment.  When  we  were  going  up,  we 
could  not  look  at  this  crevice ;  but  in  descending 


Ascension  of  Mont  Blanc.  289 

•we  were  fascinated  by  its  green  and  yawning  sides. 
All  the  blocks  of  ice  detached  by  our  passage 
bounded  down  and  ingulfed  themselves  in  the 
crevice,  as  in  the  jaws  of  the  minotaur;  only  the 
jaws  of  the  minotaur  closed  after  each  morsel, 
while  the  imsatiated  crevice  yawned  perpetually, 
and  seemed  to  await,  before  closing,  a  larger 
mouthful.  It  was  for  us  to  take  care  that  it 
should  not  receive  this  larger  mouthful,  and  all 
our  efforts  were  bent  to  that  end.  In  order  to 
withdraw  ourselves  from  this  fascination,  this 
moral  giddiness,  if  I  may  so  express  myself,  we 
ti'ied  to  joke  about  the  dangerous  position  in 
which  we  found  ourselves,  and  which  even  a 
chamois  would  not  have  envied  us.  We  even 
got  so  far  as  to  hum  some  of  Offenbach's  couplets ; 
but  I  must  confess  that  our  pleasantries  were 
feeble,  and  that  we  did  not  sing  the  airs  correctly. 

I  even  thought  I  discovered  Levesque  obstinate- 
ly setting  the  words  of  "  Barbe-Bleue "  to  one  of 
the  airs  in  "  II  Trovatore,"  which  rather  indicated 
some  grave  preoccupation  of  the  mind.  In  short, 
in  order  to  keep  up  our  spirits,  we  did  as  do  those 
false  men  of  courage  who  sing  in  the  dark  to  for- 
get their  fi'ight. 

We  remained  thus,  suspended  between  life  and 
death,  for  an  hour,  which  seemed  an  eternity ;  at 
last  we  reached  the  bottom  of  this  tennble  escarp- 
ment.    We  there  found  M.  N and  his  party, 

safe  and  sound. 

After  resting  a  little  while,  we  continued  our 
journey. 

As  we  were  approaching  the  Petit  -  Plateau, 
13  s 


290  Aicension  of  Mont  Blanc. 

Edward  Ravanel  suddenly  stopped,  and,  turning 
towards  iis,   said,  — 

"  See  what  an  avalanche  !  It  has  covered  our 
tracks." 

An  immense  avalanche  of  ice  had  indeed  fallen 
from  the  Gouter,  and  entirely  buried  the  jDath  we 
had  followed  in  the  morning  across  the  Petit- 
Plateau. 

I  estimated  that  the  mass  of  this  avalanche 
could  not  comprise  less  than  five  hundred  cubic 
3^ards.  If  it  had  fallen  while  we  were  passing,  one 
more  catastrophe  would  no  doubt  have  been  added 
to  the  already  too  long  list  of  the  necrology  of 
Mont  Blanc. 

This  fresh  obstacle  forced  us  to  seek  a  new  road, 
or  to  pass  around  the  foot  of  the  avalanche.  As 
we  were  much  fatigued,  the  latter  course  was 
assuredly  the  simplest ;  but  it  involved  a  serious 
danger.  A  wall  of  ice  more  than  sixty  feet  high, 
already  partly  detached  from  the  Gouter,  to  which 
it  only  clung  by  one  of  its  angles,  overhung  the 
path  which  we  should  follow.  This  great  mass 
seemed  to  hold  itself  in  equilibrium.  What  if  our 
passing,  by  disturbing  the  air,  should  hasten  its 
fain  Our  guides  held  a  consultation.  Each  of 
them  examined  with  a  spy-glass  the  fissure  which 
had  been  formed  between  the  mountain  and  this 
alarming  ice-mass.  The  sharp  and  clear  edges  of 
the  cleft  betrayed  a  recent  breaking  off,  evidently 
caused  by  the  fall  of  the  avalanche. 

After  a  brief  discussion,  our  guides,  recognizing 
the  impossibility  of  finding  another  road,  decided  to 
attempt  this  dangerous  passage. 


Ascension  of  Mont  Blanc.  291 

"  We  must  walk  very  fast,  —  even  run,  if  pos- 
sible," sf\id  they,  "  and  we  shall  be  in  safety  in  five 
minutes.     Come,  messieurs,  a  last  effort  !  " 

A  nm  of  five  minutes  is  a  small  matter  for 
people  who  are  only  tired ;  but  for  us,  who  were 
absolutely  exhausted,  to  run  even  for  so  short  a  time 
on  soft  snow,  in  which  we  sank  up  to  the  knees, 
seemed  a  too  formidable  task.  Nevertheless,  we 
made  an  virgent  appeal  to  our  energies,  and  after 
two  or  three  tumbles,  drawn  forward  by  one, 
pushed  by  another,  we  finally  reached  a  snow 
hillock,  on  which  we  fell  breathless.  We  were 
out  of  danger. 

It  I'equired  some  time  to  recover  ourselves. 
We  stretched  out  on  the  snow  with  a  feeling  of 
comfort  which  every  one  will  understand.  The 
greatest  difficulties  had  been  siu-mounted,  and 
though  there  were  still  dangers  to  brave,  we 
could  confront  them  with  comparatively  little  ap- 
prehension. 

We  prolonged  our  halt  in  the  hope  of  witness- 
ing the  Ml  of  the  avalanche  ;  but  in  vain.  As 
the  day  was  advancing,  and  it  was  not  prudent  to 
tarry  in  these  icy  solitudes,  we  decided  to  continue 
on  our  way,  and  about  five  o'  clock  we  reached  the 
hut  of  the  Grands-Mulets. 

After  a  bad  night,  attended  by  fever  caused  by 
the  sunstrokes  encountei'ed  in  our  expedition,  we 
made  ready  to  return  to  Chamouix ;  but  before 
setting  out,  we  inscribed  the  names  of  our  guides 
and  the  principal  events  of  oi;r  journey,  according 
to  the  custom,  on  the  register  kept  for  this  pur- 
pose at  the  Grands-Mulets. 


292  Ascension  of  Mont  Blanc. 

About  eight  o'clock  we  started  for  Chamonix. 
The  passage  of  the  Bossons  was  difl&cult,  but  we 
accomphshed  it  without  accident. 

Half  an  hour  before  reaching  Chamonix,  we 
met,  at  the  chalet  of  the  Dard  falls,  some  English 
tourists  who  seemed  to  be  watching  our  progress. 
When  they  perceived  us,  they  hurried  up  eagerly 
to  congratulate  us  on  our  success.  One  of  them 
presented  us  to  his  wife,  a  charming  person  of 
elegant  bearing.  After  we  had  given  them  a 
sketch  of  our  perilous  peregrinations,  she  said  to 
us,  in  earnest  accents,  — 

"  How  much  you  are  envied  here  by  everybody  ! 
Let  me  touch  your  alpenstocks  !  " 

These  words  seemed  to  interpret  the  general 
feeling. 

The  ascent  of  Mont  Blanc  is  a  veiy  painful  one. 
It  is  asserted  that  the  celebrated  natvu-alist  of 
Geneva,  De  Saussure,  acquired  there  the  seeds  of 
the  disease  of  which  he  died  in  a  few  months  after 
his  return  from  the  summit.  I  cannot  better 
close  this  narrative  than  by  quoting  the  words  of 
M.  Markham  Sherwell  :  — 

"  However  it  may  be,"  he  says,  in  describ- 
ing his  ascent  of  Mont  Blanc,  "  I  would  not 
advise  any  one  to  undertake  this  ascent,  the  re- 
wards of  which  can  never  have  an  importance  pro- 
portionate to  the  dangers  encountered  by  the 
tourist  and  by  those  who  accompany  him." 


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